‘What Is Equal To Water’

I eat beauty, dine on waves of divinity –
not what the crass slaves of circumstance
encircled by their own introspection
determine, where sometimes I masticate
and chew,
sometimes swallow whole the evidence until
the deed is fully absorbed, transformed

the riding free on invention, no intent held
to repay a debt I’m borne into, yet an
appreciation, distillation of gratitude: the mine of
driven wind tossing
leaf confetti from trees as they too surrender
their dying children to a better place
where ghosts assume no friendly or hostile face

net neutrality is all it’s cracked up to be,
wishing only to consume; turn you from
your station on a path across entire galaxies,
stars that I nibble on, take a bite of the apple, the
ganglia and pride gone into something else
entirely now, a quick universe of inside and out not
to reaffirm but choose

to perform the uselessly appearing journey over,
and out, repeatedly awake until I feel my skin, its
tingling from the burn of how you brushed
against me one time and worlds were formed, or
brought into being which I do not debate,
embraced and embracing now what I will always say

©Dean Baker

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