February 5, 2026

perhaps we’re living on the edge

perhaps the space age is actually coming
and the future will be so much brighter
than this tragic darkness we’re currently enduring
and our art will be the stuff of legends
of how we got out from under
fascist strong arms
and authoritarian ties
and everything will turn out
alright
in the end

i’m hopeful
but not expectful
because i know how these “governments” work
and we are facing a long
long
long
long
long trek ahead
[even a flashy fast apocalypse
would be welcomed more
than this slow descending trend
towards the end]

but as much as i see each moment
as if it’ll be viewed in history
i do not have the foresight of the future
i cannot know exactly what direction we’re taking
until it’s already been
taken

so i’ll simply say this:

continue fighting
whether the end is in sight
or not — perhaps your words will inspire
the next artist
to write

and on and on we inspire
and write
and fight

until the light actually
comes blazing
through.

January 2, 2026

down that coffee
chug that water
sprint down the stairs and
get ready for the day ahead
today
today
it will be
a day

[still kind of on
vacay
and spending time with kip
continuing traditions
and making new
and just do it
just get excited
and run run outrun the seasonal
depression
slowly invading your
head]

~~~

how come
this past
holiday season
i was unable to find
any
goddamn
candy canes
[of the candy cane flavor
variety]
?

[i found plenty
of skittles-flavored candy canes
and candy cane flavored
other things
but absolutely
zero
candy cane flavored
candy canes]

where did they all go?

has capitalism forced creativity
beyond our human wants and desires?

probably.

almost
definitely.

[well, at least our ai overlords
can enjoy the absurdity of our
‘ingenuity’
atop our burning bodies
after the world catches on fire
and the only water left
not contributing to coastal flooding
is being fed to them]

~~~

the problem
the problem
the problem is
i know
i know
i know our apocalypse
will be
so
so
so
slow

we won’t see it coming
we won’t acknowledge it here

we’ll just keep hoofing it to work
and buying our bagels
as our eyes slide past
broken infrastructure
and bodies in the street
until we’re about to be the body
and by then
it’ll be
too late
[and another person will walk past you
pretending
everything
everything
everything
is normal]

August 22, 2025

what actually was the noise
that connected us to the internet
in the early/mid nineties?

was it the future screaming at us
to maybe think better of it?

was it our computers
being used for something they hadn’t thought
they’d be used for
and that stretch and strain on the inner workings
just needed to exhale a little
in a digital-type-sound?

or was it simply a pre-made set of
futuristic sounds
composed for our
soon-to-be
post-apocalyptic
future?

[i suppose i could ask kip
and they may know…]

[but i don’t think i’m going to ask right now…
maybe in a few minutes — i’m still trying to think of
other possibilities it could have meant]

April 7, 2025

i’m writing so much
but i have so little to show for it
for it’s all poem-to-do-lists
and commentary on previous writing
and ideas for future writing
and i would like to stick to today
from this moment on, okay?

October 8, 2024

it still feels like the future
whenever i see the year
starting with a two
rather than a one
and it simply feels
unreal
to not have double zeros
between the first and last digit

i wonder if my brain will ever let go
of this harsh divide
between old millennium=safe
and new millennium=completely unknown

September 1, 2024

i’m lost in a dream
and the future as it seems
to spread out in front of
and behind me
and i still can’t get a good grasp
on the present, that’s the one thing
hidden away
lost
unfindable
irreplaceable —

the past keeps adding up
and the future is infinite
it is only the present as it is
that is only
one thing

June 6, 2023

almost
accidentally
wrote
the date as
june 6, 3023
and i have to ask:
will we still be
here?
we
as in the human species
as in any species
at all?
here
as in on this planet
in this universe
a part of existence
at all?

i gotta ask
because at this rate
it seems
high key
unlikely
unless some changes
happen
swiftly

May 22, 2021

fear,
longing,
loathing,
fright,
fear
fear
fear
new situations
new [old] people
new experiences
fear
fear
fear
stress
interpersonal relationships
consistency
inconsistency
adventure
reliability
responsibility
fear
past
nostalgia
future
expectations
present
moment
where?
fear
fear
fear.

May 21, 2021

should i still be aiming for a word count
if my goal is simply a kind of getting in touch with my creativity
my brevity
my word choice
my ability?

going through poems the other day,
in a frenzy to organize my most disorganized thoughts,
gave me the reminder that i once wrote five hundred words
easily
in one poem
my structure was simply
get the thought out
ponder it
in poem form
use the words
sparingly
but still explore
within words
what the concept means to me

do i not do that anymore?
or was the long form a new addition to the creative family
taking up residence in my brain?

kipventures poetry started out as shorter form,
some days only one to three lines
describing a whole adventure in a strange new place

so…why does nothing feel that familiar anymore?

should i explore what this family of creatives does
in my head?
or is that a one-off concept
simply useful for that singular line
and
(ope, another random memory
this time the apartment kip and i shared
in that house
in Pittsburgh
[what is it with Pittsburgh
recently?]
the sunlight streaming in through the attic bedroom windows
the weird mirrored closet doors
driving around
five below
dunken donuts vegan bacon on bagel breakfast sandwiches
that whole summer
stressful
and yet
such good memories)
what even was i talking about?

i went off on another tangent
in my brain
of when kip and i were first together
mowgli hadn’t even been born yet
but louka was living her
hard dog life
(in dog jail, if the stories are true)
and how do/will i feel about that?
if we do end up being able to adopt
and our baby is already born as of right now
am i going to look back on this time and think
‘i was so privileged, and our baby was so not,
what was i doing enjoying my life
while our baby was in trouble?’
but i can’t know that now
there are too many possibilities
to ponder
i know this is the anxiety
but it also feels like the worst super-power;
i can imagine and contemplate and see all paths,
past, present, future,
the possibilities endless
and they are all in my
stupid human brain
the insurmountable number
being
what makes my brain
damn near explode
(maybe i am super-human
simply from being able to hold all those possibilities
without any sort of fiery
boom,
but who knows;
it’s building up
it could happen
any day
now…)