show me where the
green
is
take me where the
green
lives
follow me into the
green
where lives are deep
and words are small
and energy
pulses
here, hear the cry
here i
go
again
caught in the
middle
with you
trapped here
between
just
between
caught in the
middle
middle
middle
man
the middleman
of
stagnation
the go-between
of
never
change
never
grow
never
challenge
lost here
in the fog
of
almost
and
maybe
and
that’s too far
here
hear the cry
of
the moderate
"save
the
status
quo"
Today I sit with myself, uncomfortably and awkwardly, as I face myself – and my own implicit bias towards a status quo. I am comfortable here – the world does not disown me, or hate me, or turn it’s back from me. I am safe here.
And, you are not – you who are other, different, more-than-human, or simply more. You deserve more and better than this, this deeply white, deeply hetero, deeply capitalist now – this status quo.
Today I begin to unwind a lifetime of sitting with the way things are – too comfortable to make them the way things should be.
in betweens
In the
in between
worlds
collide
atoms fizzle
like the tops of
freshly tapped
Coke
and their quiet
murmur
plays the sound
of creation
Here
in the
in between
language
dwindles
to the powerful
surges
of energetic
material
vitality
soaring through air
with the
velocity
of leaves ripped
from branches
in the thickest wind
nowhere to go
but everywhere to
be
What are
the
in betweens?
the quiet
spaces
the massive
corners
the deep
silences
filling
teeming
expanding
through
and
in
all that is
and
will ever
be
The in between
cannot be felt
or seen
through crude
clumsy
human
senses
but must be
acknowledged
viscerally
through the tiny
tendrils
of UV light
leaking
through
us
and around
us
every
second
they must be
recognized
by the heavy
carbon dioxide
particles
pushed forth
each
and every
second
brushing up against
all
the in betweens
and dancing
their intimate
tango
with fervor
and
grace
the in betweens
are here
in these
vulgar
clumsy
human words
clinging
to the pixels
like vines from a tree
swinging
closing the gaps between
words
between
thoughts
between
all
that
matter(s)
even little rooms echo
even little rooms echo. they reverberate the tiny corners and lost spaces, shadows under dust bunnies resonating with quiet sound they feel so big just then, the air thick with silent expanding filling up so full you’ve never felt that alone I wonder what will happen when the air is gone and the dust bunnies pile up like heaps of trash and that silent expanding gets so loud we can’t drown out the noise any longer will the lost spaces crumble will the tiny corners melt will we be so alone we can finally think about what we’ve done air is so big even in a little room