creightonwrites

I loathe the dirt By which I came to be The little speck which irritated me Made me shiny and radiant, Grew a tooth without a mouth (It’s me) and all of this In a dark slime of muscle Never even knowing the motion of the waves… Never knowing hot nor cold… Never even dreaming of light… What I wouldn’t give to return to a place without hatred at my core Not some bauble on a woman’s finger Dazzling each passerby with my uselessness Speak easy, where you came from Speak easy, where you’ll go

spring morning — bird shit in the morning glory

Sun-warmed dog — What is this soft math Beneath my fingers?

dark night sky back of a grackle in snow

I am a thicket of wonderful life Not as bold and beautiful as I once was More learned, less anxious I know enough about life To die any time, And work most days so I don’t, And all the other ones don’t, either. You, and you, and you. I strive for myself, and everything left over I give to you, to this world: There is never a night I don’t fall into bed exhausted Amazed by what has come