digest

the sweetest chicken soup
is made with rotten vegetables.

waterproof gloves fallen
on the linoleum kitchen floor.

and look! the northern lights
over the last passing clouds!

more important are the thresholds
when the light fades out,
and you have so many pens
you don’t have any room to take notes.

looking at the face of the man I ate
for dinner the other night, now
floating in the toilet bowl, I wonder:
did that chump ever dream of cannibals?

life’s just not as precious as people claim—
someone’s dying pretty much all the time.
eyes close, the grave widens, too many mistakes.

problem is we keep evolving, except
for the simple truth: that we so easily break.

1/14/06