cutting great neck

we're so lucky to be here.

the sun on this side of the ocean is red and it sizzles on every green leafy tree that it binds to. the way the city is black and the smoke as thick and old and suffocating as the ocean and yet it is forevermore beautiful.



sometimes

i wonder how life came to be.

i don't believe in the idea of soul. how each one of us has a "wavering flame" that burns inside that pulsating, copper-crusted organ that tries to rip through our chest's pulmonary muscle like moses through the red sea. the existence of death contradicts the "soul."

soul:

scientific ember of life, residue from the eruption of god.

our soul is nothing but cells multiplying inside. neurons transmitting an action potential that jolts us into being--breathes "life" into us--and blows up, spews little green spinach sparks all over the place and with this electricity gives us the ability to

be

alive.

when flecks of the universe collided in the black nowhere where nothing was and nobody existed, something ruptured like a split vein and somewhere life spilled out.



burnt marshmallows that spray their pale pulp into the world like a mother giving birth. in spanish: dar a luz--bring, give to the light.

i'm scared. i'm frightened. there's nothing in me that burns and life is like a balloon that never stops swelling.

maybe i'll just burst one day.




it's like the universe that never stops expanding.
our universe.

have you ever thought where it could go?

where would all that empty space come from?

maybe,
we're just getting smaller

and smaller
and

freeing up some black space for the universe to edge into.