box! orderly chaos!

Hey fellows, here's the second installment involving: myself, poetry, poetry written by myself, Donald Judd, boxes, poems about boxes, video, a camera, mud, overcast skies, and Marfa! Enjoy.



text:
box: orderly chaos


close the tiny boxes
and
return to an old attic
and imagine

a grand collapse.

fate, too, is part
of
it,

the spinning sundial, the hall
of mirrors,
the clown and the

joking pastors.

destiny,

too,

inside the empty containers.
it is written

that when unknown, there remains infinite possibility.

we can jump from the attic window,
and perhaps as yet undiscovered,

we may fly instead.