the isopod carries the
sea weed gamete
the bee, the pollen
the dog, the burr

like this we keep
pulling the sun up
stuck on our coats
and in our hair,
walk it over to dusk
while the world looks
like collapse
and drop it into

as much as i am learning
to lasso bolts of chaos,
i count on these
consistent transitions
to orient

even though time is moving
away from us in all directions,
the planet is spinning faster,
and sometimes i don’t recognize
this world

its expanse
is constantly revealing itself
as a prankster that lets me
in on the joke
between breakdowns

we belong to each other
in revolutions
in the unknown
in the emerging and the present and the past

it doesn’t matter if you want it or not
or if you don’t believe in the possibility
it will ride you like a seed
blood thirsty to root


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