today the greenery seems to have closed in over the path, as though leaning down to make the leaves' descent less painful. Here the gravel below my tires is spackled with fallen yellow ginko leaves, fanshaped splashes of light - further on there are different leaves, like a school of tiny yellow minnows

current decisions made on subjective preference can lead you astray

today my horoscope says
You just aren't sure
you have temporarily lost your ability to analyze -
today my horoscope says
You can't tell the facts from the fiction
(as I stare blindly at the horizon)
and trying to believe might set you up
for disillusionment.
Today my horoscope says,
current decisions made on subjective preference can lead you astray
Today
Today
Today
I'm waiting for tomorrow to dispel my subjective preferences
when the fates resolve to show me disillusionment
to let my horoscope say I can believe - what I want to be:
the fiction between us
and analyze the truth of leading (you, me, us)
astray.
I'm not sure.

What's subjective in this
the mess (hesitation, pause, uncertainty)
the tangled tired heat
analyzing wasted days
or the way the breeze feels like the breath of fiction
across the inside of my (disillusioned) elbows
as i push my preferences - the blueness of the horizon
like boats astray across the lake.

Fact of fiction:
what's subjective in this
the way i prefer to wait (for disillusionment)
while you busy yourself
with life
(gone astray)


or is it the unsure way
I am (fast) forward, not belonging
in 1980 or 2008, not ready to analyze the fiction
of the solid truth on the horizon, the permanence of faith
it doesn't matter what day - I'm set up to believe
current decisions made on subjective preference can lead me astray

who are you

The sound of rain is reassuring
a rush
you never have to catch up
too quickly
it slips through your fingers
the sound of rain
reassuring, like grief
telling you--
I am still alive


Who am i? Bold.
Too bold, too bold
and who are you
now
that I am too bold?

walking by the science building today
at my feet in the sidewalk
a creamy egg nestled in a groove of concrete
upright, balanced
the yolk-heavy bottom a welcome cave
for blackberry-colored ants
sometimes i feel
like that egg
dropped from such great height