“Roy and Silo”

“Roy and Silo”

It turns out life is as
empty of answers

as the surface of a smooth
white stone.

still, I tend to periodically stitch borrowed
and stolen bits of

art and science and rhetoric
into an alter of sorts –

where I look for myself foolishly for awhile –

but anyway, I know animals need no idols,
and so I endeavor to

turn away from all of my explaining
toward shadow light and the senses –

birds tossed across the sky like something spilled.

Allow the draw of heat to
lead me to nothing where nothing

means nature:

I sleep fitfully or not at all
when you are away, love.