wake up . . .

don’t you know
you’re dying?

or did you just forget?

we should finish up
that book of Proust

and spend more time
with mister whiskers

time won’t wait –
in two more weeks
we’ll have to say goodbye

in the end
they chose their ego

should they ever ask
why we let go

how fortunate
for us
that they would never think
to ask

alas, alas

snap out of it!

there’s no time
to waste
in the decadence of slumber

soon enough
that will be all
there is to know

lo and lo

perhaps in death
our point will breach
their deafened ears

however sad

we both know
better

please listen

and know
that i still do exist

this
despite all i have learned

luminous arcs drift
through alternate skies

so slowly
beyond naked eyes

tears mistook me

i waited for you

and the dawn turned to dusk

you were there

somehow
you could not hear me

sometimes
when i find
a large cardboard box

i hide underneath it
in public, i walk

so people will see me
and think
“what the fuck?”

as i move about
as though unseen
and such

i find it amusing
for i like to invoke
reactions of shock
disbelief, and reproach

one might think it weird
and perhaps it’s just that

but i pay it no mind

after all
I’m a cat

on the outer edge
of a reckless dream

the hour assumed a sanity unsound

it would rush me toward the open end

as is nothing was
revealed

sure as she
summoned a destitute uncertainty

was the calm inside
the torrent’s siege

as this passive farewell followed me

far beyond
its crux divided

to fold mountains into emptiness

it was shown to see
through barren eyes

break this restlessness
and menacing of moons

cried indelibly
the stinging black epistle

caution errs

for i am wont
to miss you

shuffled beds
of verdant needles

coaxing resinous plumes
to ripple

all we shared

shadows projected

kismet
of my zinnia

pools of sapphire
strewed your step

touching down
to scorch each pole

whence your aura traced the sky

how it was
we ever lived

forever
will escape me

those twilit tales
give chase

once seen

as we are sound

o waltz of precious carapace

whose promise
i still keep

from heaven

hold me
’til we are
no longer

what is this madness
that clearly consumes you

empathy
apathy

somatic
symbiont

tauntingly
from the dark side
of the mirror

i see
what is sown

in the wake
of its sopor

a cycle
unsettled

and so
it begins

separate
entities

time intertwines

a lone visage
unveiled

a monologue
never heard

far from the hills

are the fragments
afire

in effigy
one life unfolds

cleft in twain

the question is

who

shall remain

brief
and unbeckoned

do eras go by

defined by a feeling

by nature
intrinsic

ne’er to be felt again

outside of slumber

the wonder of fate

juxtaposed against circumstance

peering behind

the paradoxical curtain

where certainty
surely succumbs
to swift ends

each era
a window

into the gestalt

overlooks a vast sea
of subjective experience

subtle
in ways

does transition transpire

though rarely surmised

through eyes shone expectant

too often greeted
with bold opposition

despite fortuity’s adamant cries

all of our best efforts
end
acquiescing

contemporaneity
renders us blind

burdened
from perches
of hindsight and hubris

poignancy
ever pondered in past

prone
to a passive existence

this plight

slowly slips through

these paltry and porous paradigms

impossible eras

give pause

for end’s nigh

today

a revolution
of revelations

a realm
that saw Pandora balk

when prudence beckoned

spoken loud
with furtive tongue

and lead
plunged into stomachs

antiquity of yore
be damned!

unleash the ire
of auric eras

proof no longer proves itself

as pugilists pave roads
to known ends

repugnance once reviled
arrived on time
fresh from the guileless turnstile

forevermore
to be revered

the fantasy
afforded
by a fear-borne conflagration

in exploitative excess

burning eyes
seek rhyme for reason

passion now dispelled
complacent

pleads heard passively

“pray, let us perish!”

atop impervious spires of privilege

blind men have no need
for windows

wastrels are not wont to wist

and ignorance
no longer blissful

wishes death
upon the stars

while staring back
from past perspectives

more afraid
though less afar