by Dan Raphael
wings pulsing out of the sides of my forehead
like mercury retrograde, like a white goose where my head was
I am not here. I cant rise coz I dont fall
the center of the universe pulls me as strongly as the center of the earth
where else would all the beasties inside me huddle together
knowing some of us are illusions, some aren’t what they appear to be,
a couple have no idea what I’m saying, what appear to be eyes are backsides of maps,
frequency maps, accumulations of billions of dice rolls, gene splits,
the difference between crossing the border and going beyond the margin of error—
once you start sliding you see more doors, can read the large print on the streams bottom
blurbling by knowing i’ll never be on this ride again,
missing so much by thinking of what’s next—
when you can’t go back where do you go, specifically
the one way street keeps branching with eventual cul de sacs
a suburb so ornate few escape
i think i went somewhere coz theres dirt on my pants
regularly alternating how i  resist the planet trying to push me aside
i’m rooted like a tree but not wired to talk with them
no matter how i run in place, how much it rains,
i never get more intimate with where, when, on what frequencies
the array of outward neutrinos leaving an aura of exhaust,
                                                     a micron of food for every exposed pore
in the cold wind of whats usually late february.
not a day to be half-naked & sweat drenched on an urban hilltop
unsure how i got here, hoping i didnt lose more than money,
realizing I’m not in my town, no cars or birds moving, the only sounds construction equipment,
then a tree crashing to the ground, a chainsaw duet.
someones keys in my pocket & i bet this one fits this camry with nebraska plates,
getting out of the puzzle when so many of the pieces are faded and similar,
so many the same shape, like coins whose values are only revealed after pressured in my fist,
spend it while its hot, spontaneity is quicker than most defenses,
be ready when the server gets here coz you many not see her again,
so many people with phone numbers tattooed in visible places,
can a call give your phone a virus, if  i’m not talking or texting for hours a day
am i no longer fully here, partly transparent from not generating enough information,
opening the domes of our skulls to the radiance of cooperation and competition,
instant availability,   never lost,   never silent,

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