moss is growing on the roof
I’ve not noticed it before though
I’m told it’s been there for years
I am like this moss
in that I’m suddenly invisible
in hallways, inside cars
I’ve inherited
this plot hole
a gag
gift exchange — relational economy
giving back to what has given
the right letters, reconstitute
the missing from merely a description
my father did not impose
a belief in God, rather atheistic
he believes in simple explanations
Because; a science
I wonder if he has doubts
immensely dense
rerouted waste
substituted with genuine
momentum, in away
it is a great kindness
to appear not to exist
for the sake of others
when it comes to war
not men.
shunning it; dangerous
participation all over this “good
place to start” mantra
erasing what could have been
better off blank
dark as justified desire
bolted to the dark we dart through
you know your way
around the dark, the home
and bullet, fastened to the earth
commuting dark stripes across the loom
just now back then
when I shed light
on my old habit of pointing
to the sky wordlessly
when I couldn’t breathe
but chose to be rich