I came to the stage with 

the loneliest parts of me

I carry splinter of a knife

I sharpened with the tail

That shattered at the end of my spine

Where growth decided to exclude a spectrum




These days I sip the nectar of honey

Imported from the trunks of maple

Tapped by an industry that

As well made containers made by man

From also tapping the sea floor

Of its honey




I came to the stage with

The loneliest parts of me

To be read as a colony yet

I came alone and solitary

Diet consisting of bread and cured meat

This coffee might also cure me and

Cinnamon that came all the way from a southeast Asian bark




The last days of horny

I came to taste the nectar

Of a sweet form

And forgive the lineage that will end

With my last sip

Of satisfaction from a lifetime of busy

Building nest from the spit of my gut

Hoping someone can call it art

Or a home 




I return to the collective baring gifts

From an old friend

Who sat for their lunch break

Busy baking cakes at three twenty and five

I can always count on them to sit

At the glory of the sun

At the height of the fertile morning

Getting high on the warmth of grass that has 

Taken energy by noticing the sounds that

Whistle and friction of bushes

Or water rapids flowing from yesterday’s rain




Today marks the day of my passing 

I become the sailor of my boat

To carry my home as a coffin to the afterlife

Who knew they recycle paper as well 



Maybe I’ll come back here to an old life I knew

And maybe this time it would be sweeter than when I left it