if you think you are losing your mind, let it go. in the middle of the night toast sourdough bread in a toaster oven with raw milk Vermont cheddar cheese. let it go.

the computer this morning asks me:
“Day 10. Are your dreams getting crazy yet?”

the data device in my head,
it aches more frequently.
perhaps it is its housing that causes
the bright, high, sharp, silent, shriek.

in response to querying computer,
“i would say at this point
the only thing i am feeling
a stronger sense of is
the disquiet of my mind
in general, and how
that manifests in my behaviors.
the ripples of my shuddering,
the unease i inflict
upon my environment. or;
the environment is uneasy,
i am tuned
inharmoniously to this and
resonate both obtuse and acute.
sharp spikes and dull
suffocating plains.”

mind aches or
maybe it is skull.
age spots on
skin, a mottling.
body in its
ripening, Self
whispers, “molt”.

Giacomo Balla. “Street Light”. 1909

Published by Zak

an intertidal island in an ocean of impermanence.

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