Metabolism, a movie


a question of discipline

I keep forgetting it’s a trick question


the learning curve something

like an allegory of best intentions gone wrong


The scene shifts but nothing changes

you sample the accidental riffs of elsewhere

just as resolutely guided by

a faulty sense of timing as the ceaseless misfire

of synapses


trees leaving their skeletal remains as shadows

imprinted upon your cornea so that

this postcard sunset for example

looks like a picture of God

all busted up

surf line.
cypress.
parking lot.
something

that tastes like rust
in the air

nothing you haven’t already sweated out

but night can be recreated

as bamboo technology, feathers, dark

stem rattles

in tunnels under ground

“past ruin’d Ilion”

& the Santa Cruz Board Shop

susceptible to swamp logic & half-blind rain

puddles