It’s hard to pinpoint where in the body you get lost 

If at this very moment you are renewing or recycling 

You feel little buds awakening as thrashing weeds unfurl 

Everything is either a virus or a cure 

Nurture vs. nature 

It looks the same…

And you have never been great at weeding.


To build infrastructure you imagine a distancing from all that was before

Structure. Or—

The reorganizing power of positivity 

But what makes a man a man? 

Process vs. essence?

And do you really believe in the soul? 


You are not moments. 

You tell yourself. 

As you colour in another frame. 

There is a balance between soft and hard. 


All will be fine.


Everything is in movement. 

Take the positive. 

I would title this poem “Rush” 

Or “My Life on a Leash” 

But I refuse to frame the picture.