Stranger

non sequitur of noise

Why must the ground

be so different in its silent regard for each battle

that happens above it?

I did not know

that fourteen lines would

not be enough to contain

what we knew was true

but were too ashamed to ask.

and even falling asleep while standing upright

felt more natural than this.

Even a lawn chair

falling from the heavens

would have made more sense,

A bronze sky at first seemed the best way

to describe it,

but later the description

fell away into something

more vapid or mundane

than one might expect,

although the sky did not.

No matter how hard I try,

I find myself returning back

to a logical way of organizing

everything, and I wonder

if I could recognize

madness in its current

river of form?

Most things don’t make sense

until they make sense—

luckily our bodies make

most decisions for us.

Too long we’ve been silent

on matters best left in the past,

and I keep forgetting each

righteous fact began as a trembling one.