Biology
In the biological outer world, we’re all out here, playing in the gully because of sex. That’s it. A game that wants to be rebooted to see if anything more cool can come of this. Any more Einsteins? Any more Mozarts to make some noise?
Lonely one
Once the story stops, the lonely days cease. A narrative clipped. Evidence ground away by pulling back to see what actually is. Grinding to dust something that was never there. Lonely as story. One as truth. One as caving in hole. An “O” of water circling a drain. A natural arcing spin, a knowing of …
Who are you, J?
And who do you think you are, J? Acceptable answers would have been: God, the watcher, or ‘not J.’ All the other stuff – the roles and the masks – not so much.
Shine moments
The beauty of the dump. The brightness on a patch of water. A tree in the eye of a dog. You looking at you in a puddle. Seeds falling from a squirrel above. Silly little letters on notes in the street from a god above who started in only one place — your mind.
Two eyes
Two eyes to see the world. One with what is. And one with what isn’t. One direct. And one with a reflection. One with nature, and one with counting. One with leaves, and one with left. One with looking, and one with storying. One for clarity, and one for psychic. One to live. One to …