I thought I might yield

In the womb of your presence

Catching only gists

And laughing when it suits me

Eyes confined behind

An eclipsing smile

Ears an instrument,

Like a shell

Retelling the blues

Of a misanthropic sea


I have no use

Of poems or hymns

I intend to stew in the scenery

Catching pixels as sperm

Praying that my mind

Is still fertile enough

To recompose


I’ve never cared

For templates

It’s what I feel

That’s extraordinary

The love I have

For the unseen

Which diverts mention


Sometimes I just need

To be silent

Like a barnacle sucking

With great reverence

And introspection

The beast it serves