I test an impossibly small joy
Lay it flat on the spare bed
As I wait for your call
After you finish cleaning up todays job.
I too finish an impossibly flat job
Test its wait on you
After I clean my small bed
of spare joy.
Are waves like wormholes of the sea? The distance a wave travels feels like my writing attempts -- a tiny swell that could become double overhead poetrics across time and space. We dive for the truth and are taken elsewhere to Truth. If coastal tsunami warnings can attest, complex algorithms may be required to see it coming. Gratitude to memory of Hokusai for distorted use of his "The Great Wave off Kanagawa" image.
