We are the quartet of this quarantine 
so sing hope with me 
to the sea 
and to the sky
to the grass 
and to the trees
to the plants
and the dirt we see
for there is nothing we must do now
but wait in the joy of nothing. 
                        

The day is empty, my heart is full
Like the pool of possibilities’ grief
Pulsating lightly under the unspooled
Droplets of enmity’s leaf. 

Every day is an infinity to tackle
At the line of fame’s scrimmage
Or the light and leisurely cackle 
At this gray game’s image. 

You can call this play whatever you like,
You are the grand master after all
But there is no one there to pick the type
Of pain we will allow within our fall. 

This is the game of paradox
Of poetry and passionate movement
So giggle if you must, for no fairer fox 
Has walked the path of prudence.
                        

I pulled my hair up 
and let the sun embrace me
in the warm arms
of its’ light

As I stared at the lemon-colored daffodils
dripping 
with the blood of an actor
whose movie had ended. 

A million thoughts came to me then
like wild horses
out the stable 
of this self. 

To put them all into a row
would be an act of magic
and I am not
the sorcerer of organization

No, no, no; I am not.
What I am 
is the raving mess
of didlidlada. 

I know this 
because
many ramblings rest
within virtual vaults

Without a second look. 
But, frankly, I say fuck the form
of general discourse
Embrace the wild fragrance of real love. 

This is where you can find me:
under the moon blowing an apparition 
like a jazz player
to the tune of an unheard melody. 

In that eve of discovery
you can choose to hear
the notes of this mania
or

You can shut the door
on possibility, 
play yourself simple
like a banker. 

Boring! 
Be a big boy instead! 
Pull those painted shorts
over the canvas of your legs

And run in the sun
on the grass of mythology. 
There are many more marks 
to make of this adventure

And many more to mark, too.
So uncork the wine of being
bring it to your lips like a drinker of life
slurp it heartily 

Till this luscious sleep wraps you away
from this world of artificial light
and into the arms
of that forgotten sun.