it by wasn't the told of so, di Herman Shorts

it by wasn't the told of so

life and even one good thing–

anything, a course in wonders

becomes? no school, thanks not

for me. no lesson one so likes

declaring to find itself legs. no

more ideas please, there is

a great work to be undone.

maybe after

we can tell

stories again.

(2013)

I love how you talk Down to everyone In your poems Which, unlike fiction Are not covered

simply knowing you’re in a maze doesn’t get you out, but the fact is the foundation

no means no. no response means no. (everyone knows maybe means nothing

the very idea that i could be

love does not beat on doors, beg at tables. it is always

we were all talking, things taking shape as they do, when someone said, be desireless, like that is at all a thing people

bring me things to break myself upon till

i could not conceive of such beauty, it had to hit me like it has. nothing

my spirit sings to you, clears and quickens. losing you is impossible

does a king come ready– made, or doesn’t he emerge from a prince once a frog, and aren’t you

love me past the edges, stances and masks, deeper than i know things.

people, mostly all barely beyond apes, cannot be trusted. they are incapable of caring

they really do know how to shove something up your ass like

excuse me, i thought you were also the center of a fractal

first fruits hardly a handful, the garden