Fractal Evening

Looking into the flowing stream

without thinking of jumping in.

Showy snow job of infinite variety

parsed into bits as small as a pixie

pixel perhaps distracted to swirl in

an eddy of momentary recognition

in the sea there’s nothing to hold

onto except the water better than

falling through air nothing to see 

here move along.

Even the wall in front of me is a

stationary, reliable hallucination,

texture of painted concrete a

snapshot of Pollock visualization.

“I’ll have the same again…”

…even though it’s never the same

because you’re never the same

or you don’t remember.

So, good luck with that…I have 

to go out into the dark night, and

when I return…