Does Groping Happen In Japan

sea timeless



For my son Alex in his
thirty-nine birthday.

Every October my belly
time it blooms in a blaze;
not pass Lunas,
skin does not change the spring.
my child like comets.

is reinventing stations and platforms and sidewalks.
Yesterday I woke up between the legs, tomorrow will
vine. My child does not invoke
calendars,
only sowed TODAY
on Earth.
Between the cradle of my hands
time I ALWAYS
swing in all the poems. You only need
dawn.