Sometimes it’s not worth
The tiny prose.
The VHS eyes
Struggling with angels.
Mixed up with
The sun and rain, the volume and the presence,
The pessimism of checker boards.
Don’t be
Terminally comfortable.
What does the sun
Behind power lines in the dusk
Do for a grip?
What else
Rejoice in the calamity
Face down in the cosmos.
naïve haircuts 
There’re something almost reassuring about the last stanza, and yet it’s also revealing of a bitter truth. It made me smile. Excellent poem.
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Thanks for saying so. That was my intention when I wrote it. I’m glad it worked. Thank you!
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Nice blog
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Thank you Saania. Much appreciated.
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“What does the sun
Behind power lines in the dusk
Do for a grip?”
Beautiful! I tend to pick out lines that I like the most, I hope you don’t mind this style of comment!
I’m going to sway through your work a bit over the next couple days.
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Thank you again. I don’t mind your style of comments at all, I often do the same.
I also plan on reading your work, which I am very excited to have become acquainted with.
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