My Brain

Slip into my brain, feel

the fire along each nerve.

Learn to fear the world

and question all that’s real.

Make of skin a canvas, writ

with curses, can’ts, and tears.

Embrace unnumbered fears

to make an aria of it.

Hear secrets in a question

then learn doubt–and doubt again.

pretend to truth–remember when

You could enjoy the sun.

Slip into my brain–maybe

You can assemble sense.

Give me a respite from defense.

Teach me to be free.



To begin is, perhaps, easier than admitted–

set pen to page, open the door,

pour out your soul spontaneously

Easier, sure, than ending.


to begin is perhaps admitting

the end of other things

leaving one room

for a new and foreign one.

it is rare to begin one page

without first finishing another

And perhaps we only progress

from gold to silver to brass

but things will end regardless.

to begin again is better far

than to leave the barren blankness.

(but not as easy, nor as sure)

Death is easier than life, and yet

life goes on.

Spring resprouts, stars are born,

and emptiness is filled with motes of dust.

It is, perhaps, easier to end than admitted–

beginning’s the harder road

and yet

we still begin again.