birthday poem for el why

tell me about your heart
and i’ll tell you about mine
the long tendrils that reach in and out
at the same time
a one way street that goes both ways
always both
the beginnings and endings
which never began nor ended
but are simply there to tie things up
to make sure we know
that time doesn’t exist
by letting us see how it works
i have learned to make a bow out of these ends
and i have put it on something that is invisible
but means so much more



  1. i liked the tendrils, for me they hold it together, better than bonds or bands or bridges, sound slimy, slippery, sticky (good in the middle of a california roll) but, sadly, easy to break, intentionally or not, they dry up & die


    tangentially, kinda like to touch the tendrils of whoever made that image, whatever it is, if she’s… well, she, and unattended, with tendrils that aren’t

    too tender,

    where are ya man,

    JJ’s lookin for ya

Submit a comment