Nothing Else

what the mind throws up feels real but isn't
a man floating in the sky a woman's voice
"You can" close to my ear can what I wonder
dreaming on the edge of sleep but not tired
sleeping standing up because nothing else
I can't see well enough to read all the time

Little Poem

I am not entirely happy with myself
sometimes I mess up
but I'm not going to make too much of it
just this little poem

Roll Call

I see what you mean my best hope
innocence recovered if not resumed
my résumé roomy enough for that

cryptic wisdom the last remains a
fragment shored into infinite time
can anything be infinite anymore

the temperature wobbles between
hints of coming cold and extreme
heat further agitation of electrons

mere dream questioning survival
barely fit for roll call which I am
sharing my name with millions