Formulas are Like This

If time is distance then how much time do we have and at what distance.

What it Means

Do I say that I have two brothers and one sister or do I say that I have two brothers and I used to have a sister or does that suggest that she is no longer my sister despite an acute absence like our fingers touch two sides of sheeted ice and we both move together but our worlds are not synchronous in her image mine like a moon in wind-strewn Gulf and though it is all so still and cold there is always movement away from and away from so that I have two brothers and there is one sister and she peels a dark shell from this snow where we might sit one day and I have a wife and a sister and should I suggest they protect me when I am most vulnerable though only one sinks into my bed and I have a sister and a wife and a dog and two mothers and what do I do when I want to know which one to finally crumble before and pray and ask to be forgiven or who do I allow my love to flow around and past to fill the room in unspeakably quiet ways saturating the way I clench my fists or do I not clench them at all but hold her skin in my palms if the space between is erased there will be no turning and leaving and which one will touch me back or do I say only that I am loved not by saying I am loved but by never getting to say what I wanted to say in the first place which is that it is better not to speak but like those voyagers waiting to leave to let everything that could be said be torn apart and wind-strewn back upon us in ways that cannot be spoken

Definition

Shatter the afternoon too many words to say to scream to shriek to gag this how we document today and then we are simple too simple to make this better understood though do we need to be understood though do we need to be less simple or are we in tune are we in key are we staccato are we at rest do we play or are we just trying not to be sad or are we trying not to eat if this makes our stomachs too full to understand empty to understand is something we don't have time to talk about so we have to talk fast and talk in this way that is frustrating and you want to fucking punch me and punch me and punch me and we both ache because we both understand nothing a macaroni moon falls over us isn't that something mommy would have an objective way to love one of us more than the other and there would be no reason to ask questions such as what does this math problem mean or what do you mean or what do I mean after the sun is down there can be no more cliches so called to describe what is before us so here I request that we truce long enough to feel the breeze of twilight on our bruises and sip tea like tea sipping faggots that's what a brother might call it what a stupid thing words what an absolutely awful thing words and anger here slips between the letters and hate between the anger and soon we are layered in things we hope, more than anything, do not define us.

Walksleeping

A shiver of Hertz rings true to we the solitary boys. And to solitary (girls)? We don't know if we've never heard them, and if they are shy and won't let us hear them then the echoes of the brick and the oak as we tap will serve as their voices. If they ever sing to us, we won't know which songs are special but they will all be special. And if they are with us we must always love them because if they leave we will not know they have gone and even the taps will be empty, sometimes like the taste of the first morning after her space is October Country, chill, and unoccupied, and Heaven is suddenly just a bunch of assholes you've never met like Jacksonville, Seattle, Leon, Boston, the nerves in our backs dead and our shoulders heaving. This is why I would like to meet you, and you may kiss my nose and linger above, I will be sleeping I promise.

A Familiar Astronomy

Chisel tired eyes who express how old this day has been brushing dust across the teeth. Bang bang on our daughters' birthdays ceasefire in July just bugs swimming in fire eating ebony-skinned firmament and you and me being common and sweet. Smiling just the way another warm body once did in the palm of tree trunk roots right before she kisses him unsurprisingly but expected in the only kind of way that will unfurl his fingers wanting only to touch. In conclusion there are ordinary ways to know the boredom of moist breath on your cheeks and he will love her for it.

Songs about nothing at all

What do we forget, oh what do we forget in refrains oh what songs we used to know. Trying to remember like ice in the vibrating numbness of a glass still not half empty and other noises who fill us to our brimming cheekbones. Parisian cafes stuffed with intrus tortillants wine glasses fast warm Italian rubber fast Italian suits parking attendants who think God how fucking sad are these who drive away from their time and they can only drive these cars with brevity before they are repulsed entirely and must step from the doors. But what of brevity, we could ask them. We are all brief and only you are moving without velocity. They will never answer but will hand the keys in the moments that are silent.

Stillness

What it is like to be bored of mirrors. It is like this, or that, it does not matter which snowstorm we choose. A footprint lasts so little time here, no use in movement, impossible in stillness. What it's like to shake from the nucleus.