Antiphatic Poetics

Yeah, yeah, sure. I am off
In the mountains by dawn
And I never return

Until nearly sunset.
The pieces of sayings
That mean nothing much more

Anymore but a nod
Are hiding viruses,
Every word a sleeper

Cell ready to erupt
Into robotic life
Or at least urgency—

Good morning. How are you?
Doing good. How are you?
How are you? How are you?

Have a good one. I’m off
To the mountains and I
Never return a call.