in the millennium

what is it 
we know / or imagine   get to

what thought known  to be ahead 
in life, one inch from the beginning

at that moment of intense 
sun

in lifes regret

downtown in slush

.

in the park I was thinking and cant say it

the
melancholic twist of truth that I'll never
get to know enough of you to think anything else but
what I do. therefore. . .

mark cynically, that I cant 
work the  s  on garcias possessive.

      garcias' garcia's



jan 2000, no illusions 
not called 
typing anymore

the world 
a contradiction of attempts at connection to it/

I crave loneliness as its opposite

time: as matter; steam from the tub 
my empty thought a slight revelation at the haze
of polluted red

I miss my green underwood. it implied its own time 
& that future would wipe it out.