This afternoon, evening I suppose, I rode my bicycle from Dunn Brothers to my apartment.
I rode slowly, and I did not pause at the ends of the alley.
I rode, and I thought of everything and nothing,
Of the duality of everything, the triality, the quatrality, the quintality
The infinality of all things. But also
The nothing of all things,
The everything of nothing. The nothing in everything.

How often do you pause and feel the walls around you?
Run your fingers over plaster and find the places they have been patched.
I discovered the sweet satin feel of the plastic covering
On the clock display of my microwave.

I rode home, but once I left the alley I did not need to pedal.
I let my left foot drop and my right foot rise,
And I put my right hand on the leather seat between my legs.
My left was at my side,
And I did not stop as I approached the intersection:
I looked both ways, but somehow
Suspected I would not have to.

I continued across both lanes of this split street,
And down the block, finally slowing down and pedaling,
Because it would not do to die on asphalt
After finding so much peace.

We experience so much every day.
Today I have been gripped with the shivering
Fever of fear and remorse,
And I have felt the flush of success.
I have twitched my sniffling nose at inaction
And I have sat still for hours
While becoming the world.

I have frowned. I have cried. I have smiled.
What more can I ask of the day than that?

Here's a good one:

a man and a woman
go to the isles

she stands in the water and imagines seabass nibbling the callouses from her toes
he sits on the beach and rubs white stones as big as his thighs, thinking of acryllics and ink

she dances through clorox bleached graveyards as big as her hometown, strewn like dirty whites
and he meditates on what it means to be respectful

she visits stonehenge and meditates on the natures that brought her here to see this
he leaves stonehenge
hand in hand with her weathered, smiling palm
and smiles back
in wildstyle
on the rock.