Quaero, ergo sum.
A horse of a different fish.
Eating pierogi in a pirogue.
Wrongs impede me
(though I suspect I call
many things wrong that,
strictly speaking, aren't).
My ongoing obituary
chronicling all the little deaths
that advance my life toward the last.
The living are dead and the dead live
is the stupidest fucking thing
I have ever heard.
When it feels like we're all playing
for next-to-last place.
The one you come to hate the most
is the one you used to be,
because of their opportunities.
Once, I remember, I danced
from better to better rather
than falling from worse to worse.
My dreams were too good:
the world paled beside them.
And what, when the effects are
no longer special, then?
A truth that doesn’t force a choice
between two or more things
but forces a non-choice between them.
Can you believe you can?
Must you believe you must?
The realists are those who hold themselves
apart; the gregarious see what they wish to be
in what they want to see.
Better late than never is beautiful
but as often as not untrue:
still, where we were not early
let us be late.