"I think there's a structure to both tangible and intangible reality that we're not yet able to understand, though we get hints here and there and record them as science and art and scripture. The structure might be supremely complex or sublimely simple; in fact, I suspect that if we ever get to the bottom of the complexity pile, we'll find it's all simple.

"Am I talking about God? I have no idea. I'm not even sure it's a meaningful question. I don't see how this structure can be an actor, but then again, here we human structures are. The structure itself and our limited grasp of it are consistent with the notion of God as passing human understanding, so I don't rule anything out. Religious question aside, I will say that the bits of the structure I've seen are quite beautiful."

-- Retief Johnson, "The Arkansas Lectures"

Nose

 

Sometimes 

all a dog has is his nose

and you just walk it with him.

September 29 2020

Useless Aphorism

 
From my dog:

"Who pees last, pees best."

 

Other Lives

Things you know without being told
include but are not limited to:

• How to find your way by touch
  to the pantry for cookies
  to give your young visitors
• The jolly fall of sunlight on the garden gate
  by the flowers where you might have played
  if it wasn't just a dream
• The sense of being far from home
  and barefoot in pajamas on a straight road
  by a beach in moonlight
• What the windowless drawing room was like
  where the duchess sat,
  surrounded by her smiling coterie

What you feel is the terror

of intimate understanding, in a pinprick moment,

of a life you never had.

Go to the memories next door with caution,

if at all,

and borrow none. 

August 22 2020

Interim

And windy. 

A satisfaction

to be wearing jeans 

and a sweatshirt again, 

but the breeze can only be 

just so strong, before it’s winter.

September 18 2020

 

Controversial

 

I’m busy writing manifestos

for civil wars I hope will never burn the streets.

I’m mapping futures made of knives.

I'm spreading unlikely theories of courtesy.

I’m ill with history.

The latest thing in litter

is temporary faces, 

and tomorrow's poison, 

in the newsfeed I'm hooked up to, 

waits to drip.

There’s no way to my heart’s church from here,

no access to the sky.

I can't write reason or read joy

with all these arguments to win,

these falsehoods to outface,

this outrage to consume.

It's time to snip the zip ties,

slip outside,

remember the moon.

Thank God, the dog knows nothing.

September 2 2020