verse self-sprung—it only seeks
I’ll create the next day as it comes—as god does
the tongue must unfasten!
chewing food is more sacred that any prayer
apparently, I need my problems more than their solutions
a distilled poem doesn’t kiss the soul to sleep
a body does that—in all its crudity
choosing the truth is not the same as living with her
when to be serious, when to be playful
when you don’t have to ask—when one is the other
open your lies!
when I write—I’m right
I am enough with you
no thought no reflection no analysis no cultivation no intention—
let it settle
will it come will it? will it come will it?
will it come, will it
nowhere but fromhere
let’s not be heroic: life is a lot of little
I need so little
and spend all my time askance
mother’s the oven for this brilliant loaf
I don’t have any dreams—I have only dreams!
laughter’s the last gasp
I’m a better man when not seeking praise
the air as air I breathe—
the chime of the bell it chimes with me
waiting only for someone or thing—
to strike the bell that inside rings!