the puzzle that is grace
the pieces do not pick themselves up
nor do they put themselves back together
they're fully occupied being pieces
holding their forms and edges
retaining their character and content
the sounds sights tastes and smells
and somatic memory
of the force of detaching
a diaspora as traumatic as any
and long floating falls from grace
there they are
right where they fell
HE'S EVERYWHERE EVERYWHERE He's everywhere everywhere try not to stare not to stare get him a chair him a chair...
T R U E H O M E L A N D Why is this sweet world we live in so torn between chaos and Zen with extremes at either end like enemies...
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