Here we are, twisting our way through
the countryside together
and we don’t even know each other’s names.
She’s my neighbor, a Japanese flower
possibly from Seattle,
at least that’s what I might have heard
from the river of broken tongues, my ears
were working at only half capacity.
I was using everything else I had
to breathe in my surroundings.
It was utterly useless and pleasant,
I was a hibernating bud on the winter stock,
and I would soon be feeding the world all the
warmth and brilliance of color
I was plotting the liberation of humanity
as I glanced a little to my right
seeing her transparent reflection
looking into this window of subtle
Who are you?
Why must we be silently projecting
and accumulating information for the revolution
in our heads, the revolution meant
for our souls?
Would it kill people to actually
talk to one another?
We are not strangers
anymore. Do you like trivia?
Me neither, fuck trivia.
Let’s talk about something else:
Did you know that we are
changing the world as our
reflections speak to one another through
this travelers looking glass?
Oh, that would be a great way
for the revolution to start
A Breach In The Peace Of Mind
I noticed the fence in front of your house was broken, and I tried to
imagine the collision that must have happened in the few days since I
last walked by your house. Some reckless jerk, probably drunk behind
the wheel, had put so much on the line. Thank God there weren’t any
visible bloodstains on the ground. I don’t know how much more I could
fear intruders, especially the ones who don’t know where they’re
And so that’s how it was with us. As I walked by that gaping hole in
the fence I could see that the light in your room was on. And I was
afraid, so afraid, of what damages you had sustained, and I felt a
little bit responsible. We were just so careless when we were happy.
That broken fence spoke to me through twisted nails and mangled
splinters, and the light showing from your window projected a scene of
irony through that chaotic mess: There you are, up in your room, still
guarding yourself jealously, and here I am, just beyond your window,
teetering on the brink of a collision.
Well, maybe we could take some comfort in knowing that even the most
confusing and difficult feelings can manifest themselves so literally.
I think we could both learn a lot from broken fences.
You may reach Sam Burks at firstname.lastname@example.org.