A notebook bulletin board
tacked on when randomly bored
applied thoughts in a scribblebook
open for the world to look who passes by
so fast to see like a needle in a haystack we
safely stash those innermost secrets thought to be
at least you see languishing up and into pristine
blossoms for you to pick and sniff and hope
they don't make you sick.


What Do I Believe In?

My answer would be belief
and the abstinence thereof,
calculatedly balanced.

The more you get a sense for it*
is by having been allowed exposure to it -
How much can they know - brought up on that pap?
They must've concluded they were not authorized to sense.
To exist. To really even be in the first place.

How much you can believe what your eyes see
flashing before you on the TV depends
entirely on how much you believed in
everything else they ever told you.