to terms

it’s chaos in order

until order becomes chaos.

all fluid in between, and

violence often rules.

every man a speck of dust,

10,000 little more.

the plan is the plan,

the results hit a fan,

and all the world

carries on.


a lovely number you are


you melt like heroin in a spoon

your body boiled down to data


you are one of X people living with Y

or one of P who died by Q

or one of A who is indebted to B

one of C who dislikes D


all of which makes you a member

of R group

even though you never joined


(but hey,

at least you’re not in U)


always or never or often or occasionally

a figure for folks

to manipulate


incessant macro visions

hurtling towards

micro understanding




we are gods

making sense of the past

to know the future…


as if we know the past


welcome to the real world, kid

the choice is yours




you are so predictable.








triangle coffee

this coffee

is triangle.

the floors are flat concrete.

blank walls.

decor: sparse.

i am one of six white people here.

there is no one else.

chill tunes roll over us and our devices;

over our mid-mod tables and chairs.

this coffee

is triangle.

kids of suburbia unleashed on

unassuming impoverished districts

build chic, empty holes like this.

we’re leaving the mickey d’s,

walmart, coca-cola clutter behind.

now we are empty.

at least we’re not violent?

our coffee

is triangle.