the floor is covered in ash, we trudge
through to the kitchen to pour ourselves some coffee,
then to the bedroom to lay in the empty space there, left

our hands are never clean, our feet are always cold and
we don't have enough sense to cover them.

heavy faces, giving off sawdust smiles and
big red-marked cheeks from leaning too ******* other people.
we are craning over one another, reaching past one another, never holding
eye-contact

it's the emptiness left
from the previous emptiness
here, it's

awful here,
it's awful
here.

i am comforted in my own. just like ice melts, only not so
warm, just warm     enough. lay like a leaf in the sun, holding up lace so that
when i lower it the pattern will be burned into my cheeks, intricate enough
so that people will have to lean inclose
to see

i am ever-changing, like forever-ever, like no mona lisa because
'bullets pass through me and I keep moooooooving'
only the bullets never reach me - i know i'm dreaming when i'm
dreaming.

he tickled me with love
i imagine
behind his merciless
IBM grin
sadistic chuckle

my grandfather loved me
built me a swing
a wooden airplane
gave me a bicycle
a cape to wear
he taught me pong and pitfall

wielding a brush-broom
handlebar-moustache
a favorite game of his was giving raspberries
testing limits
his iron fingers
wringing squeals of laughter sour
under breathless ribs
tear-eyed begging fits

his old white t-shirt
too small to hide his plump
hairy belly,
i'd tickled him there once
poked him where my cousins pointed
giggling

when the kick came
i felt it in the heart
more than the back of my knee
bent from the sudden
sneering force

when i asked him
years later
for a book from his dying bookshelf
he joked with a growl
the last emphysemic sentence i remember
he said to me
you gonna bring it back when you're done?

i remember
the rules of the tickle game
and love him back
for his sarcasm
firecrack generosity




.

function here in waves,
playful rose of fractal dance between the ashen
i-am-nesses fused --
what else can say existence
like you   are like me?
that atoms mine are yours
coinciding kinds
in kind collide in braving symbols wide.
no interference holds amid the swing
from dark to light,
eternal constancy
of varied essence striking
joy on joy a smitten fullness-
breath of overcoming desperation's wrath
regrown particulates of god undead
of final unities no longer dark,
no longer merely one among






.

We have this notion that time is rigid
that time is a solo tick of a clock's second hand
or mearly the grain dropped into the hourglasses bottom

that the day needs to be broken down
that the night slips on by the hours escape us as we escape to lands of mystery and fog

but sometimes i love this about humans , i love that we like things neat and tidy ,

we're like ants - collecting for the colony although we seem to have lost the way back to the community centre

we're taking all we've found and putting it away in groups of 2 and 3 and 4 expecting to build hives that can outlast a rainstorm.

But here's the funny thing ,

sometimes i live in 3000 years past future present

and this confuses some people
who still believe that time is liner.

Once more i would like to point out the sorry truth that , whomever controlled the time -
would control us all

now who sets the clocks back??

Not me....


So i've set all mine forwards
some would call me a hoarder but i think i'm just taking back what is rightfully mine...

Even though it hurt alot
and it still kinda hurts sometimes i'm sure it will

but we are here

and we have healed so much !

Now i know why the de ja vu's were here

it's this, this bond ,

this life time millennia that flew into my arms as a lover ,
into my arms again as a child ,

out of my way as an enemy
into my closest circle as an advisor,

over my breast like a flame as a mother -

it's this unshakable bond that stems from wanting to heal as much as we do
so this one,

this one's for you mum

and all the people you have been with me.

*Wai's Kru