(2013)
oh, and how it gets you these bastard assumptions, one or two commonalities
let’s put all the stupid things in a pile and call them “love” or “worry” or
just start over not so much like anything was particularly
reflecting on the moment before, would be useful only were it not already perfect.
we go walking around walking all over this town nothing ever getting us down cause we’re just a couple of clown…
love does not beat on doors, beg at tables. it is always
may be too onerous a task for those not starving. lucky
does a king come ready– made, or doesn’t he emerge from a prince once a frog, and aren’t you
nobody goes mad on purpose, also never is it not shared,
god is unwelcome in suburbia, the cells are too comfortable there, & love rests best under stars.
so, i’m in this spiritual war. maybe you aren’t, but i am. many great losses
leaning into, not against it. no, decidedly for, yes, always that, no matter
lie still. be quiet. please understand what happens so, next time
I will meet you in the open air, & pet your pony’s nose. You will be
being drawn back unlike a bowstring but down and in as water finds the lowest