Here is the message “hello world”
from the newest computing language in my brain.
I stand in digital space with my machine gun
spraying nothingness with ones and zeros.
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I wander through lands sun-kissed by your dust…
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four months out from a sunflower bloom.
somewhere outside kyiv is a clearing, budding
sunflowers poke through the snow; turgid,
a burned-out BTR rests its hull against the earth.
all falling through my dreaming.
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hands fumble blindly, clutching onto everything they touch, desperately testing.
anything as long as it’s sharp.
the idea of the hourglass, too full of sand – why does it have to be so full? – a thought that has crashed through reality, shattering sanity.
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crying — that godawful sign of life
panic — occasional sign of love —
sparrows in their branches shrieking to each other
about the cat in the grass.
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as I lie in bed
awake at 3 am
I try to craft something beautiful
as to not waste this sadness
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Root minus one timesed by eight,
Over arccos minus one; integrate.
When the cloud boy fades to night, you won’t even notice.
He won’t go out in a thunderstorm, or a blizzard, but instead in the drizzle
of his mother’s tears; a puddle drowning the only post-it note he left
behind; his ink-heart words bleeding thick plumes of smoke.
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in hushed girlhood, i feared ghosts and falling —
now, i fly, dance, sing; i fear nothing but what waits in
the blackened backstage wing — your widegrinninglove,
those round clown cheeks, and it seems we meet again.
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