“After” refers time to subtle degrees: an artificial breach of forever in which we are contained if only as compost for what is to come.

We process the known day thru the filter of verbiage making mulch of real events not recalled because memory holds only the wisps that do not blow away from lack of context.

Next to the bathroom sink is a small picture of Christ, a button, a paperclip & next to his face, a Bluetooth which caused me to wonder if he again walked physically among us, would he be wearing one? Once more both God & man: eating, sleeping, sweating, receiving messages from elsewhere as we do.…

Like a Lighting-Bolt You are– Strikingly-Inspiring And my Pen glides Over the page Like a flash of– LIGHTING It’s so fast and it’s so free Words are JOLTS OF LIGHTING In the bones– And through the feet– Radiating over ME Like a glow of Glitter-Rays Creating through another PHASE Turning Time and– Turning Page Inking…