(understood)

Once the brow has furrowed
in a forehead question mark
there is no
before.
Whatever smooth and silent found its home between the eyes
never has been
now.
You will remember
nothing
of your old life.
You will know too much.

(until
the late life morning
when the sidelong mirror near the bathroom door
paints craters in the early eyelids
and draws margins down the cheek,
freckles mildew in the cream.
then,
calamities erase
into the sheets)

But
for now at least
you are young
and so alive with what will be discovered.

Travel Blog

The sky no longer made much sense.
Now it was all grass
and green
and ground.
There, in the soil
where
stepping
lent itself quite well to leaving
footprints
in the leaves,
was me.
Very much alone
and scared of bears.

Overhead
within the wind
I searched forgotten patterns-
the migration of the birds
and clouds,
the memory of lightning bolts
and snow.
Now I had denied the weather
and the flight of sun across the sky,
the trajectory of starry nights.
I lived on Earth
on land
on an Ikea chair with my feet propped up,
the television on.

The sky no longer made much sense.
I had piled aspirations
one
on top of
the other
up
through the clouds
jumped atop, hands on hips, and
proudly
looked
around.
Oh! I had seen inside the sky!
and while it was really rather beautiful,
never, never was it
Blue.
I needed something new
to lie upon my back
and look up to.

Flatten hemispheres.
Bring the clouds down to earth, eye level.
Spread them out across the states:
the Red Rocks of Sedona,
the Wisconsin trails,
the eastern seaboard beaches.
No coordinates, no compass tip,
no northern star,
just a starting point.
I'll begin at home
with what's familiar,
with the facts.
The wonderful wanting of more.
A delicious desire
for flavor and taste,
and for the dearest words I know-
to explore.