Sometimes Genius, Sometimes Fool

Tool With The Diamond Core

Hammerhead and Others

As a tool
I’m not the instrument in any other hand
yet operate
somehow, being used and confused…
at first
there is a marble sculpture
in a garage I’m lent
the noise and clatter cast off
in a heated
deteriorating process
that I am to pay for damages
for something I produce
that’s not my own
compelled to share
as an instrument hammering rock
with a head harder than stone
and alone I wonder
what’s more ignorant —
that which behaves burdened
having incentivized my ability
to be so naive
that which chooses to live how it dreams crush rock seeking inner beauty when purpose as tool reveals
I have the diamond core
that you would implore
until you didn’t get what you want
a tool, an instrument of self-abuse,
I will not be until I’m told
just what you intend
since I plugged in
sawing and chipping away to recall
the hidden core of my youth
with vigor you would deny me —
because blinded by my own dust
something I didn’t perceive was ill-conceived
and made by me


1.19.26
Made public without edits, 1.8.26

I can follow it now and like the muddled mess of thoughts because it’s the process to get here, and learn regret is better than shame, but neither serve if I am to continue producing my art with what remaining naïveté. I cherish a childlike knowledge with thirst to evolve…hopefully preserving what can’t be eroded by its ward — nostalgic sentiment.