I have collected my poems in fascicles
when they do not 
a unit 
form

I think I will need to find
a new pair of arms
to carry this world in my mind

seconds of life
herringboned together 
with thoughts for sand 

perhaps a new set of hands
to shape this world into mine 

into mind I am

I am stumbling over a truth 
and I dissolve –

doubt is my faith

and I reform: 
the most devout skepticist
and disciple of 

The Order of Sardonic Nomads

- am I high and dry
or is this the next montane desert

in the diaspora of the self? 

walk where you will

we dance like bees
(it's all talk)