Eastward Wind

each morning the wind sweeps in from the west
as I drive down the highway I can feel it
pushing me up the road in the emerging light

I've come to count on it
plastered streaks of cold
as I rush to start my car

each morning as you watch me leave
a look of distress overtakes you

but each morning you can count on me
to get carried off by the same wind

the velvet strings of existence
grappling me

I know meaning only

in my struggle

the word *enough* measures me

into small pieces

quietly falling
back in

don't listen for anything
but the wind cresting
the valley and emerging
from my chest

let the silences that fall

between
feel comforting in familiary

let expansive nothingness
careen off the smallest shelves
enveloping the largest mountains
swooping guillotine swipes
tap history divinity into hemispheres
reason and emotion's seasons
seas on forgotten lands sway
wayward but seasoned by time

let nothingness expand
swelling melons explode extreme
filling rooms with strange smells
I thought I smelled this before
but this time they're synthetic
men in hazmat suits built them
when nothingness swept in
recreating nothing from obliteration

but nothing remains unexpanded
I've expanded inflating fat like God
like the emptiness atween emptiness
infinite and immeasurable

yet my body is solid
and aches each morning
the cold wind stings my face
but it reminds me I'm alive
which is somehow just enough