Thursday, January 2, 2020

Found sounds,
words, are hanging
haphazard there,
where, while
rummaging
through,
you find
poems out of place,
seeds,
stones,
small bones,
teeth in pockets.
Amazing what's
inside
the mind
that needs sorting.
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Let us construct a center for healthy minds,
introduce a curriculum of compassion,
coexistent with thukdam, things.

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"All there were were fireflies, and from them, you could
infer the meadow."
Dark Matter Physicist Rebecca Elson

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"Undersight"

gruffy ground
sounds a
swallet,
as a rickle,
tickles time,
rimes the sward,
remembers the word for.

thoughts on Underland, a book by Robert Macfarlane


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Brain werk work
a  s m a l l (samll)
rettam

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stop sign
traffic light
stop traffic light sign traffic stop sign light stoplight traffic sign
tops craft lit sin raft post sing sigh 

Why did I write "stop sign, traffic light" down?

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そうでないふりをシナで。