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