Nothing Is Moving

Nothing Is Moving

Beaded curtain of fireflies,
hedges lighting up at their edges,

spray of sparks from a mirrorball’s
slow rotation. Nothing is moving,

I could say. But, God, that is so
inaccurate. No turning shrubs,

sure, and the road masters
corpse pose, plays dead

so well, and the darkness
steadies itself against our

planet, as a teacher, dizzy in
the heat at the end of the

school year, might put her hand
against the globe on her desk.

All revolves, you have introduced
yourself to space, a thing not

there, you keep trying to eat
your blind spots, adorn yourself

with cataract sequins, leopard-
proud. Everything promises

to dissolve, fireflies to you
mean summer, mean youth,

but this firefly on your arm,
flickering, you will never see

again after this second, the
long-slumbering lightning bugs

of last summer have given
the dirt the secret to making light.

What Is This Place

What Is This Place

If it will shelter you,
you can trust it
for tonight, at least.
If it offers you
its open hands, joined
to make a shelf,
you can rest here, wait
here for an hour.
If it the only thing it has
for you is a cauldron
of fire, or the serrated edge
of a precipice, or
acres of wild waters, then
you must keep
moving, even if you, I’m
sorry, love it.

Here Is a Statue

Here Is a Statue

The reason you cannot see it is
that it’s made of air,

to look at it you will have to walk
through it.

Come toward my voice, keep going,
does it feel like

the ocean is breathing on you yet.
Now, it is the ocean

that is invisible, the statue is of
the ocean holding you.

Sooner Rather Than Later

Guess what will be available a bit sooner than I'd originally thought?

           

Yup, that's right! In the Kettle, the Shriek can be held by your hands on August 1! (Confetti explosion!) (Can you hear my cat meow in the video? She had to make her presence known.)

It's also available for pre-order right now. 

Be ready for a contest announcement in the next couple of weeks. (MYSTERIOUS confetti explosion...silver confetti and fog).

Guest Speaker

Guest Speaker

Good morning, I’m here to talk to you
today about the illusion of safety

by which I mean safety, do you know
how lucky you are to be subject

to gravity, if we didn’t, why, how horrific
that would be, we’d have to buy

individual anchors for ourselves and
especially for the children,

there could be family-sized anchors, for
bundling you and your loved

ones, that would be one way to certify
love, with cables and straps

and carabiners, every second that goes
by, you are one second closer

to nothing, no, I mean that in a good way,
safety’s overrated, what I would

recommend is use what you know and
what you want, too, and one day

you will look back at something at say
Wow, that was a very hard time,

and then you will think about another
time, and say, That was me at

my happiest, and no matter what, you will
have thought and said those things.

Everyday, Islands Go Missing

Everyday, Islands Go Missing


The island is tired
of waiting

for you. You have
not found it yet,

how must that sound,

like throwing words
into the ocean, the poor
little pebbles.

Who feels bad for
the island

in the middle of the
mainland, no oceans
in sight.

Where is the island

for the farmer,
for cacti,
for those who have
never seen an ocean.

The ticket
is not the island.

Your goggles
are not the island.

The island can’t come inland.
It has to remember where
it lives,

you need to go to it,
walk on it,
a puddle of land.

The Bad Weather Club

The Bad Weather Club

All it takes to join is a love
of the majority of rain,

rain cut on the bias and rain
light as seaspray and,

especially, rain right before
it is rain, dark sky

during day, birds whooping
and trilling their

faces off, leaves on the trees
twitching, fingers on

piano keys. Our clubhouse
is made of glass,

we spend our meetings gazing
out, chanting, let it

not clear quite yet. That’s it.
Do not confuse us

with the Cheerers of Calamity,
it’s not destruction

we love, but the clouds, hands
held over our heads.