Life

is ambushing

an unsuspecting non-existence

Every day

the naivety of Nothing

is regretted

Why did Emptiness

let itself be surprised

by this heavy Materiality?

The Undertow

in the pillar-character of the Void

is relentless

Birdsong is a costly distraction;

upshot of mountains

empty gestures

The coffee mug's space is emptied

of tit for tat

The insipid “Away!” of Life

curses its own occurrence

A non-existent god

is made the scapegoat

for the lousy assignment of being

Up like a skirt,

down like a pulled long face

I fix the forage,

embarrass plurality

Nothing always overtakes the All,

“never been” is the Salt of the Earth