new ecclesiastes:

don't let i's float to long,

they'll turn into f's.

immediacy is 200-proof,

etc. is everything after

(you won't remember).

you can read physics textbooks, but

a car wreck bleeds poetry.

live like the loom might slip, breaking

day(over) + night(under).

interior and exterior rennovation.

in 4th grade, we wove on

small looms while Ms. Baker

read a story where a

fast-food restaurant

became sit-down. the most

beautiful was one i made out

of scraps of discarded

yarn.

maybe i will die in a

fiery crash, if the pieces fit

just right, and you will

envy my name in newsprint,

sewed next to an add for

razors.

a new patch can't mend

old clothes.

but what if threadbare cloth

fills between the punctuations

of life and death?

i don't want to fail.

maybe as many places as

i've lived i will have beautiful

colors.