THE HALLUCINATOR

The hallucinator sees
the contents of their mind

spread out before them,
like dusty old knickknacks

brought up from the basement
and strewn out in the front yard.

Their minds become a
kaleidoscope.

They look at their life
and see themselves
as a miracle.

An accidental poem by this article in The Atlantic.

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Volunteer Park Conservatory, Seattle

KEEPING TABS

The floating faces
on any garden variety
newsfeed are guaranteed
to radiate larger-than-life
satisfaction.

◆ ◆ ◆

Distance and timezones
three removed, I’m a
fool to rely on a daily
scroll to keep tabs

◆ ◆ ◆

A cherry-picked,
carefully composed
gallery is suited for
general consumption
only. Acquaintances,
rejoice.

◆ ◆ ◆

Time and again,
my heart tugs with
longing: they are so
happy and I’m missing
all of it.

◆ ◆ ◆

Time and again,
my heart leaps: we
chat, we text, we
converse. Their lives
are just as varied,
uncertain, exhausting,
lovely, rich and complex
as ever.