“right.”

the sentence a string of pearls, broken
words accurate and precise rolling madly
under the mini-fridge, riding the escalator
across and down the shallow streets
i slipped pratfalling to laugh shame 
back into its little closet. all day i chased words
to no avail and as i shuddered into sleep
they appeared to me and i chanted them and 
prayed them, rolled them in my mind’s hand 
to give you on waking. they dissolved
in my dream, i woke up in the blank
with nothing to offer, rolling soft wet clay
into rough beads to hang on your every

thinking out silent: i have wondered
about the blazed x on the map
the length and depth of desire
more than the angles or weight of what’s
buried in the salty sand. but you asked so
i am looking for a human poem. the right 
words in the right order, understandable
with more meaning if one simply commits
time and effort to parsing, to dreaming

i am looking for a proofreader
for this nth draft of a self
who loves long jagged digressions
unafraid to exchange carets and stets

someone who can dig
and dig and dig

when i met god it confirmed that it is love
i am searching for someone
who prays the language
i am tired of this treasure hunt
and down deep there is a blown wish
to bury my shining self
in someone else’s map