Life seems sweet in other worlds,

Ripe with fungal dew in this one.

Bravery is facing the fungus and making it home,

Ignoring the sweet thyme scent of other worlds.

Life is more real here or there,

But not in the fight between the scent and the dew.

In the gutter

In the gutter
was a silver CD,
“To Lativa”
on its side.

In the gutter
was a heart discarded
by Lativa,
while driving by.

Today I saw a CD in the gutter and this story walked into my brain and wouldn’t stop yammering.  So here it is.


I always believed in you.

In a particular future.

I hadn’t met you.

I just knew you were part of the sequence of my life.

But the moments kept slipping away.

And the time never arrived.

Fate never sought out our meeting.

And I never looked.

And then the doubts began to echo in silent places.

Uncertainty slipped out of the future,

And into the my life.

Denial of doubt began screaming,

Hiding in the denial of the belief.

But the mobius loop of denial eventually broke.

And now my fated future is recognized as an illusion.

Now that future is merely a world visited and not lived in.

Now my escape is fantasizing about you,

A man who never came.

Because he was never supposed to.

There is a platform in a distant land

It has views of the whole of my life,

Subtle and complex.

Symphonies can be conducted there.

Entire beautiful worlds can unfold in the hidden mathematics of musical conduits

But I am here.

There is no found road to there.

There is only here, with the walls that vanish into the sky

And the idea of a platform in a distant land

Where symphonic life is possible.