I follow the story-lines of your hair
in photographs. Tracing the sources of
stream tendrils. Making my way back to
the original kiss. Asking the universe
to contract. Let’s reserve a table in
a future restaurant. An advertisement
in a foreign place. Paperweight heart.
Your lessons in film-making, driving.
Navigation being the hardest part. We
could animate our own dreams. Powers
swirling in our star charts. I follow
the newspapers each Friday afternoon.
They lead me to a place where love is
a large explosion. I’m feeling lucky.

Why? Because. That’s it. No reason. Just
because. Why? Because why. It’s as simple
as that. Because. Because why? Trust me,
because. Why? Because that’s the way it
is. That’s no because, no why either. I
shrug. Because, that’s why. The reasons
are the answers. There’s why and there’s
why not. I’ll take because. Because why.
That’s why. Simplicity itself. Because
we’re all seeking simple answers. Why?
How would I know? Just because I know
why because is because, does that make
me an expert? Why? Because. O sure, I
heard you the first time. Because why.