the words fluttered and sang to me all morning

the words fluttered and sang to me all morning

1. we are all things and all people

it was as easy as they said it would be. i closed my eyes and felt myself slide in all directions of space and time. one second i was in paris at a café drinking the night with my skin; simultaneously i was adrift on a raft to the west of japan, exploring the pacific with my elongated toes, tickling fish, rubbing tentacles with initiated octopi.

for my next experiment, i brought with me my possessions. my books soaked into the sea and their sentences floated to the surface free of syntax and stability. in this new watery text i felt myself merge with the author, her tongue slithering like sex through my soul. i opened my mouth to cry and felt stars sink into my panic and tranquility. we combed the ocean floor for clues as to how to fish the poetry from our books. this took one thoughtless glance and up we were adrift on clouds, marvelling at the new wings we could sleep on.

spreading into the world was as easy as (everything is all right everything is) closing my eyes.

2. we are all one

time scattered like light into the murky depths of my imagination. i was an only child in my head and so i invented playthings –machines of my psyche. outsourcing my self, multiplying my personalities, i became more self-sufficient, better able to sustain my growth into the next fis(i)cal year. the free enterprise of my personal economy left me with change and the equity to expire.

3. except for her

my love moves through the window, graceless and old, pondering the pavement, spreading her arms (now graceful and bold) she catches flying cats and purrs like the whirring of electricities and imaginations.

the time for wanting is upon us.