Absence, that which never stops appearing.
A sea bound creature once believed
to be a single body is actually 1,000 small fish stuck together
and sucking.
You will never hear me disparage this arrangement being
myself composed in haste and subject to uncoupling.
I too am put together to come apart.
A bird screams out my window, like an alarm
I have set to notify me when a bird is there.
I cannot say what everyone means when they emphasize that
the faulty ring on the challenger cost $900 only.
I never wanted to be an astronaut, never asked
for any stretch of sky to die in.
I'd rather go here in the beachhead's gristle
or tucked in a tunnel vent.
I just haven't done it yet, and I
know I frustrate God, who built me four endings
and never says anything but "You had one job!"
That is my God impression.
Well done.