Sun Aug 2 23:23
2026-08-02
do you know what it was?
i don't.
engrossed in it, the mist, amidst
clear headed, still, some fog remaining
embarked in a journey, 42nd, to be in fact
will this be the last?
accumulated, what's passed is past
the residue it left in me, i restfully collect
fog remains still, parts of me out there, it's hard to see
but eye got i's
and the coin in my left pocket seen some times
so i don't worry, but i'll toss it in the river when this fog is lifted
how do you want to read?
poems can unravel themselves as you read, line by line, at a considered pace — or just sit there, fully visible, like normal.
change this anytime — look for “reading: …” near the top of any poem.