cat eats breakfast while i drink coffee and listen to music and cycle thymic’ly

i am hopeful to be
less hopeful. i am 
attempting to stop 
attempting. i am 
interested in filling
with emptiness. i have
no words; 

this is a town 
where people, mostly
faded shuffling men, 
go 
out on boats. 
they pay for the right
to claim fish
that belong to no one. 
they claim these ownerless
fish as their own, 
paid for with pieces of 
shining singing soul. 
they catch these fish,
fish, 
pulsing expressions of 
dreams and unfettered 
thought, and they sell 
them. they trade 
explosive flashing bodies 
for material we currently
place value in, and 
use this material to buy 
trucks and beers and places
out of the rain to place their 
streaming heads. 

this is what 
my words are, 
not mine.
i pay for them 
and then give them 
release. 

i have traded much 
of my laughing soul 
for them, i don’t laugh
that much anymore.
i hope to trade 
them for material 
of value, so that i may
not buy beer and
not buy a truck
but try to dry my 
trickling head. 

Published by Zak

an intertidal island in an ocean of impermanence.

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