Hello Friend, Well Met


My brain slides metaphorically to the right

I brush stardust from knee high boots

The residue of prophesied macrocosms

I am the Sandman’s illegitimate daughter

I dream defiantly even upon waking

The sun cannot outshine my imagination

I navigate exclusively by latitude

North or South. High or Low

I am only horizontal when lying down


I want to make doors to other dimensions

I want to be completely improbable

Like a magician without the spectacle

Drama is better when tectonic

In regards to life I find gratitude

More accordant with enlightenment

I conspire with madness to heighten potential.

I want to scribble without ingratiating margins

In protest of a fascist rhetoric

I want to “do” and not “dither”

To look smiling into the mirror and say

Hello friend, well met