Here, in the sky, chaos is an ocean I am busy reflecting,
and it’s blue,
and I am blue, too.
Not by nature, but by function of spending all my time in view of the listless waves against the shore… beating with the same fervor, knocking on the same door, on and on and
I do not envy the ocean.
I do not long for the chaos or storm, I am simply in the business of presenting things as they ought to be, not as they are.
When, in weakness, I give in to the impulse to imitate,
in my chaos, you can no longer see the stars.
So I stay fixed, blue,
reflecting a rage that
could look still and clear as glass if
it could only
July 4th, 2015