Moving between the two views

one where you see me, one where you don’t

I walk around with old scrolls in my pocket

everyone’s lives on them written in ink

get an hourly update on the ills of society

listen to lists of the dead and dying.

I keep many ways to chastise myself

in various cupboards, it’s a game. 

The closer I get to winning

the more often I ask myself to name

the thing I’m chasing, which isn’t the sun

this time, nor a feast nor a way of living. 

Mix up several alphabets you can make

paper people covered with letters that add up 

to nothing. I’ve been meaning to say

my gums keep bleeding but only at certain

times each month. I’m visiting statues to sit

in their silence, study how their hands

stay so still. Tell me what to do in a year

with no summer. I’ve tried eating only oranges

but I’m open to suggestions.