Swelled Head Meeting His Match Halfway

You’re always on the verge 
Of discovering something 
Of vast import, uplifting 

To those you think are 
Well below you, when 
Will you at last bend 

Over backwards and fall 
Head over heels over 
The deep end? 

Epitaph For A Die-hard Nihilist

I remember 

You always wondered why 
Nothing made sense 

But never why 
Nothing could explain it. 

Veiled Facebook Plea To My Readers

Perhaps you will have noticed 
But more likely not, my writing’s 
Composed 

Of very simple thoughts 
With lots 
Of oft-repeated old- 

Timers like black, white, 
Sunrise, noon, twilight, night— 
And now and then, a few 

Youngsters I’ve created 
Along the way like 
Thinkamajig and scurzy, 

The latter which I thought 
I’d made up and wanted 
To include here 

As a world premiere, 
But which looks 
Like it was 

First coined by one Sarah
Curzon as the name 
For her 

Instagram account, so 
That one’s no longer my exclusive 
Baby but I can still fall 

Back on my all-time 
Favorite, nothinglikeness, 
As a Google check shows 

It continues to be 
Completely unknown 
To millions like yourself, 

Very much like me.

Bipolar Parting Is Such Bittersweet Sorrow

Janus, half of me wants 
No part of you when 
You’re no longer yourself 
And your mind’s long gone— 

The other half stays behind 

Hung up on selfies of so 
Long it’s been awesome 
To know you, how long 
Are you gonna be gone? 

Mundane Matters Above All, Poet

There, Glaucus— 
Don’t you see 

Plain as the gathering 
Crepuscle crossing 

The transparent blue 
Rush of mountains 

Most majestic, now purple 
Rhetoric clouding 

The poor mind’s eye.