I.

I.

I have never once felt welcome among you,
though often we have tried.
I and you, the multitude of you,
numbering in hundreds across time and world
have made so many plans for lunches
that have never been prepared.
So many cups of coffee gone cold,
the milk soured as it sits,
waiting for us to arrive and order.

I have never felt lonelier than
one-hundred reactions to my face
and the occasional hollow wish
for happiness and peace.

But the fault is with me.
I am unable to take these things
and form them into what they are
meant to be.

All I can do is apologize
and try to be better.

David ColeComment
Prelude

Prelude.

These words are not going to last.
No one will publish them,
no one will care to memorize.
Six months past my death,
when no one renews this domain,
this website will vanish.

All the things I write now will
one day
pass into an absolute ether
as if they never were.

I create, in this experiment,
future-ghosts:
less than a person
more than a thought
and destined to disappear.

David ColeComment