Friday, May 7, 2010


Sense of wonder
Scents of one or
Ends of slumber
Send us wonder

I wonder
Are there any spaces left on this land we know,
that we have left unknown?
That no foot tread on, head rolled down, hands plucked from?
If we could light up all the spaces we'd ever stepped, would we be impressed?
How many pieces, miniscule as they may be, here in Minneapolis, are 'untouched'?
How miniscule can something be while we still allow it to occupy 'space'?
There are definitely molecules we haven't touched, right?
Is that enough?
What counts as space when the earth is always shifting, changing, growing beneath us?
Lat/Long. coordinates? The finest top layer of decay and dirt?

If I tracked every place my feet fell with...I don't know, glow stick goo
How many times have I retraced my steps? If I stay in one 'place' long enough
that there is no virgin territory
am I now a part of that place? For how long?
Or do I cancel out the steps each time they are retraced, allowing myself to see it in
new light, new matter, new skin? For what it is.

I wonder

How long does it take for two people who love eachother. who love to touch eachother.
to take in every sensational space? When we change, 'together' or 'alone', is that sensation new?
If I could cover that old couple in the park with glow stick goo
would their kisses-caresses-hugs-hits-high-fives leave any space unlit?
Can we assume that the couple arguing over static cell phone left more, glow less?
How many times do we retrace these steps?
What kind of ground are we trying to cover when we touch eachother?
You're yours I'm mine nothing here's for keeps, but please, let me be known, right now.

These thoughts are not original, not unknown, or unstepped
Its almost prettier that way
Also, this is not 'deep'
I have no intention of depth
It was all about surface area


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