Begin in the knees of the earth. Walk the dizziness of A poem that breathes in space exhales into the void. Remember the Tomb tipping Guts of spring, The sea and the eyelashes Defying gravity, The ping pong playing peonies Of electric yesterdays. Remember how All at once The universe put on Its legs And walks like A fiasco of names On a checker board. Will you walk with me? In the opposite of acquisition? Who else can see these widowed months? Beckoning at the table Where is the pen and paper that ribs time and space with the dents of highway laughs? I walk and walk, In a coat, black, collared, the curve of which almost touches the ear. No hat. What is it in us that allows us past narrative ghosts? For this I penciled in the page and erased around the poem Like an astronaut fills the page With the memory of a jellyfish. I stayed up all night Playing solitaire On the PC With the radio on, Curating the ramblings. The soul is a runway for anything Willing to fly. What do we know? It is only afterward A sense of being.