8:18am

my heart beats from wind that is a quake, an escape fire

stilled with stories, warring, we are becoming book objects

storytellers too dead to speak a word less a daguerreotype of what isn't there

9pm

if i swallow even one apple seed

i will grow into a tree

the world has never seen

8:57am

dear words, are we on speaking ground again?

dear language, i used you wrong (wronged you) again today

dear ghost, i love you for not being here, but present

12:46pm

pat me on the back for my exit,

but i'm still on leave

or some of me is still

8:33am

we no longer have to die to live in the past

and how our ghosts compete

to haunt one past

9:09am

an early mosquito circles, confused in its search for blood

a bee outside hovers, four stories too high

a sun, rare in warmth, whispering

10:23am

wine sap, sequoiadendron

tap root, root snap

winesapsequoiadendron

10:45am

how to listen to a windthrown hand?

each day cuts a new notch into my palm

we are far from wood

10:05am

i think about how we bump and graze past others in one city

i think about how we fall into and out of line in another city

all are ghosts, but (ever)present, moving with guidance, and then past, without apology

11:20am

dear sun, i walk as if i am trying to spend all of my limbs

"wake up! here is blue!"

lately it has been hard to walk a way back into human, i need you too, sun

10:58am

body, you know when day is done, but my mind knows better

body, you play house with time while my mind reads the sunset as it would the sunrise

we spend a lot of time reading the sky together

11:11am

clouds are ghosts of a (moving the) sky i thought i knew

my little patch of blue, slowly being compromised

still, the rain can't get started, and it's too exhausting to be known

10:15pm

leaves were talking while we wrote

i am trying to pre-serve language as sound before language can be preserved as words, erased

leaves are always talking as we write

9:53am

sitting in home, home is a thereness i tiptoe through

careful, not to touch, not to disturb

even ghosts leave prints behind

8:25am

dear mirah, if california drifts past japan one day, know that an earthquake unsettled us and i'm just passing through

dear adam, if you see an atlantic avenue ghost train running, know that i'm aboard for a transcontinental journey of passing through

dear karen, if you find me wandering in the ether of seoul and san francisco, know that i need a hand if i'm going to pass through you

9:33am

it seems the ghosts i knew have superimposed themselves onto you and you and you

let's use our keen sense of memory to haunt side by side

my real family, together we will learn to tend to our ghosts

4:45pm

sunlight (dear, time) clocks in (i miss(ed) my being in you) from window (to window)

a pigeon lands, (What time?) sights pulled over to the (blue skies!) fire escape

cooing (i am tired (yawns) of trying to fit myself in you (in her)), it watches seagulls on rooftops below

9am

the fallen palm leaves in my backyard were full of hidden black widows

i dreamt about a blue and red spider, making me a fake superhero painlessly

trees line a few blocks of a long street that isn't mine, bowing away from apartment buildings, filling with limelight

10:10pm

ghost, i see you. now, go.

ghost, i in you. now, let's go.

ghost i am past in you. now, let go.

12:25pm

i dreamed myself into a mirror and when she recognized me i told her to wake up

please be patient because my mind is a controlled burn of an alarm clock

i know i have to give you my ghosts