From the 2019 Collection "2222"
#222 #2222 #comedy #existential #jmartindean
Oh, Death! Two beers and I’m on my back! Skipped the shower, skipped the toothbrush. Just a film of sweat,
You can get better, or you can get worse, or you can stay the same. But you can’t change. Nope!
The Rock made me to see each month as a day. The Rock implored that I be patie… with a patience so radical it slips into renunciation
Like a Somali pirate just pull up on the Grim Reaper, surprise him
Upon that special mound there is a cleanliness, a purity sanctimonious, something so perfect it’s numerological—
Praise those who sit and wait for nothing. Who sit still and know they are owed nothing. On the mat each inhalation
I once found in what appeared to be cistern carved within a boulder, an owl’s wing,
A Sacred Site is the ultimate emblem, a trophy of the horizon’s finitude… No better a final gate, no more wiser a runway,
A tide of blood, miniature in compare— But an ocean no less, to the virus in there.
(1) Under an open window I gaze out until the wonder is gon… Having run out of questions I fal… but perk up when a stray cat appea…
Whether you’re preaching to the ch… or your words fall on deaf ears, just know you won’t swing a single vote.
Love is a svelte dagger, a gentle rapping, a triple-seven. Love is my law, makes me weep,
When I see the little holes where the earrings used to be I wonder what they embraced and then renounced to get to now.
I feel newly acquainted with this skin, everything is novel, intensity is wherever my eyes land,
Finally alone, I lie with a volum… I venture again to hear the injunc… normally I savor their sensitivity… but tonight all I can think about