This here’s some dense fog,
Thick as the earth’s hide.
Have you ever seen
such an unsight?

At present,
there’s only
yesterday,
today,
tomorrow.
At present,
jamais vu.

If you’re hearing this now,
that means you’re alive.
Reason to rejoice:
One more sunrise.

At present,
there’s only
yesterday,
today,
tomorrow.
At present,
jamais vu.

Anyone got the time?
Anybody see the sign?

At present,
jamais vu.

(4/2/2020 – Gregory Street, Madison, Wisconsin)

Some mornings I pray for rain.
Other mornings I wish for sun.
Most mornings I don’t know what I want.

Some days I see a car up on the county road.
Other days not a soul.
Most days it’s us up here alone.

Some nights there’s a light in the window.
Some evenings there’s no one home.
Sometimes ’round midnight I hear a voice.

Utterly in the grey –
an expanse
with no glance
of an ending.

Never stranger.

(3/17/2020 – Gregory Street, Madison, Wisconsin)

Dashed to the corner,
shuffled with the crowd
as the stitches came undone.

Down came the edict:
Everyone get inside,
stay quiet, discontinue contact.

In other words,
hunker down
so long.

Dawns days of dialing into
distant frequencies.
Bob your head to the beat.

In other words,
let the air out
of the balloon
slowly, child.

Ducking out in the dark.
Waving to the shadows.
Signs of spring,
a sea of closed doors.

In other words,
for now.

In other words,
how’s it all gonna turn out?

In other words,
another world.

(3/14 & 3/15/2020 – Gregory Street, Madison, Wisconsin)