The horse rode itself
too damn fast into
a low-hanging branch.
Backing up meant
the same as remaining,
so the horse rode
the wind away, expenditure
of air, stretching past
the end of itself,
deep into the win.
The Second Comedian
It’s humid; “it” being the weather now.
But no, it’s cool because of the window
and the late rain outside, the colder air
being inside where it’s not humid, today.
Box of sleep.
’Times I can feel my own stupidity.
He sent me a letter in which multiple
disappointments were spelled out correctly.
All his guests were dismissed as people
who merely did not want to be alone.
Knowing that I will never see that man
ever again kind of messes with my head.
I don’t believe in syllables as debris.
There’s an old saying: there’s an old saying.