Fractals 

for alex haristhal

by Ryan Carson

​

the dreams recede occasionally

and they settle into the damp sand

of my subconscious, rocked into candor.

 

when insomnia cracks the windshield

of my vision, I remember

what alex had to say about fractals

and that it’s reassuring,

that you don’t always notice them

 

but seriously, they’re always there

which is my favorite thing about celebrities

I can just think about what they are doing

at any given time

                                    unlike friends who must be clutched

                                    and located, texted, are you ok?

                                    yeah, it does feel like the sky is always

                                    falling, but it’s only raining

                                    all the fucking time

 

but celebrities, I wonder what they’re doing man

they aren’t suffering, well not in the way that to clean a house is suffering

 

instead I like to think that moby

is driving up a hilly carpet of evergreens

courtney cox in an apple orchard with lenses

reflecting granny smith and golden, delicious

 

and me, clear lenses of fractal in admittedly

sick deck shoes on an admittedly shitty and sinking yacht

Sequestered, and sloppy in my best stripes I drink for sustenance.