later, i watch
a man
on a video
in Kenya
eat a hamburger.
Author Archives: Zak
the never setting sun
pale blue
behind the soft gray
all friends are best
and
you want to
go to that
elsewhere.
spinning while sitting still
measurements
are still
the same
sunday morning in december on a southern island in alaska
all around me
the air
is freely given.
a series of differently sized doors
we bump
our bodies
up against each
other
life is most of the time intolerable, i said to a friend, while we both laughed and smiled
it is said
an empty mind
is
a peaceful mind;
a tiny town and its news, or, the brief magnificence
the big industry
of his state,
their disease
of money,
more than he could
withstand.
a man said “what are you doing” and i said “taking photos”
the ceaseless
uncertainty
makes art
of us.
if you don’t quit smoking your curves will never grow
the spray smells faintly
of garbage.
since putting new toner in the old printer its printing squeal sounds different
you share things that
you think
might be of
mutual interest.
the beauty of farming
we put dreams
into our skin.
the woodstove is tiny yet still it gives heat
and this is
an everlasting joy.
my mans tells me to just do stuff so i watch wind blow water into waves
rain makes
small holes
in the land,
which we fall
into.
up a hill and into the wind
the only way
to get better
is
to let go.
thanksgiving day and the wind cannot subdue its enthusiasm for us
a friend
in the wisened eyes
of their old wooden
house.
when you stop trying to move it it will move without effort
i could not
fathom to
eat the burrito,
but the
friend
did not mind.
80 years go by like a cloud
she has a
severe haircut
and tends bar
on weekends.
it was somewhat cold so i wore a pair of lightly insulated pants
a small house in an obscurity of woods
visiting is preferable to living
maybe
on a
wooden porch.
a
brownstone stoop.
i wear shorts in preparation for the heat, look at all these idiots in their trousers
i breathe in and
am caught by the sharp barbs
of his chemically-enhanced scent.
the 1st choice was closed so we settled on the 2nd
all of us,
an other
to someone
else.
the sky a pale purple and still awake
the day
was gentle
and
i felt ok
about myself.
another classic game of chicken-or-the-egg
he says to me,
he says
“i have an
older brother
and we couldn’t be
any more different”.
waiting for the bulgur to cook and i ought to be chopping vegetables
were i
an artist
i could make
art of this,