It’s better to be kind than clever
Scribbles on the bedroom wall of a hand-me-friend
apartment, mattress & box spring on the bluey purple
flecked carpet. A duct-taped chair with towel
on the back, a mirror on the floor caked in melted
snow men. A glass table. A pond paining. On
the outside of the door, four Cascadia flag stickers.
——I’m drunk already on swings of Trader Joe’s
——’Blended Scotch Whisky’ but I can tell the light
——switch cover is off-balance.
Goosebumps as a rush through the armpit to
the wrist — by these signs you will know the
pace is too swift.
——It’s better to be kind than clever.
Mexican consulate flag, wind-rolled about
——Smoking fog of sunlight on the black pavement
——fresh pelted by drizzle & hail shower.Death happens a little bit at a time before
death comes all at once.
——The afterlife gets pieces of you first,
——memories forgotten or perceptions never
——stored. You lose youth, talent, vigor,
——ambition to the grave, but it’s all waiting there
——when what’s left of you arrives.
What astounding summations of human
lives, every brick, note, & word.
‘They remember the thoughts of their
ancestors.’ Culture defined.
——We weave & are woven both.