I am heaping like an
intersection
of instances
dispersing as the floral
loop of sleep
tangibly draped with invisibility
the static beeping of my departure
witnessing the burst of egos
so uncontrollably distant from each other
in the topography of my identity
I am lost between the trees and the forest
I can’t see the wood
for the raw wildfire of my
existence
all I am saying is that I have no control
in moments like these
being a Buddhist
would have been a good idea.
Modern Poetry Blog
Beyond Language 
Hi – thought I’d say hello..like this. I love the ‘heaping like an intersection of instances’…what an opening. I’ll tune in…thx JK
For a long time, I am looking an poem like this. Now I have found it. Thank you for your sharing, man!