Pivot. No counts. in These titles mean nothing.

Hi there ku/coo
Mossy sunny fall day
Enter October

None add up, count
None follow the rules
All sit in sets of three

Alone, in company
Far from perfection
Caring not too much

I woke up this morning
Both full and empty of hope
The day spread before me

I use it all up
In pursuit of happiness
With limited success

I go to bed this night
After a dayful of quiet life
Grateful a little bit

I sleep in gratitude
For what you’ve given
For what I’ve taken

Leaving scraps for the cat
How boring can a life be?
Pretty damned boring.

The good I do is limited and impure
My motives selfish and uncommitted
The results vague and almost evil

I’m too lazy to be truly evil
I laze before a screen
A screed forming

One that hates me
As much as anyone
As much as you

I could go back
Fix these words
Make them sweeter

I wonder if this is real
Me at my table
Me at my life
Do I matter at all?

Do fall mornings exist
Before they become noon
And noon lasts only seconds

So maybe none of this is real
Maybe the two of us are only ideas
Scratched on misty windows

Never seen again for ever
Never remembered at all
Only for this instant’s purpose

I’m coming close actually to the words needed
To the quota I strive for, the even three-
quarters of a thousand

Given a few more stray ideas
Wrapped in insignificance
No counts, I promised.

Except the official one always
At page bottom right.
Adding word for the monster

Whose memory is all that matters
in this exercise against futility
We engage our wills

Our minds, our electronic
Realities. It matters.
It does not matter.

Somewhere in between
The truth lies
That lying truth

That owns us
Every year
Another pile

Three words
One, two, three
Count the ways

I love you.