"Proposition: assertion is true if the assertion's predicate holds its associated experiences" scribbled my professor in dry white chalk on a dusty whitish-greenish chalkboard, a pat statement scribbled among many. But he failed to consider a few extenuations. I would postulate this Proposition: assertion is true when a cat's paw of breeze unsettles a heavy-handed wing of one of the fluttery butterflies that grip my stomach whom I have so far succeeded in calming as I part my lips to speak to you My assertion remains true even as I feel it begin to go all wrong, silly geese flying not south but east by northeast, senseless honking trailing off into silence My assertion is still true though you discard the unlikely-looking grey oyster who guards tight-lipped his lustrous pearls in favor of a finnier, bolder, toothier man-- Spring 1990
I wonder and guess where you are How you've been What sort of thoughts are driving your mind No one's seen you for a week And you're not home when I call When I last saw you the bright eyes and leaping mind I had known were heavy with not enough sleep and an alienating burden that I couldn't touch or know or even scarcely see across the hazy distance between us That's my clue I suppose I miss you in lonely unease like this chilly October night's long walk home without a coat to hold in my warmth or protect my frailty And I will still wonder with unclosed eyes deep into the countless sleepless ticks of my clock in the quiet darkness But my boss smiled at me (!) tonight and we joked over a beer And leaving homeward I see that the stiff October wind has blown the city night clear of smog and dust -- brilliant bluish moon casting stark tree shadows on the pale sidewalk and brittle points of stars pouring pure and sharp from the blackest sky to hone keen my blurry consciousness My body in still and wordless wonder for a while is light and for a moment life is a good thing-- 1990