(((day by day it goes by
slowly surely things do live and die))).
i discover desperate tendencies among shambles of wires
not sure which one leads where
---was it the red, read, or blues-----
which pills will leave me utterly collapsed
across floorboards of wonder.
trying like a sonofabitch not to drown in obtuse pessimism
trying like a sonofabitch not be stuck left proselytizing to the converted herd.
surely things go slowly
,got sparks beneath my shoddy fingers
all flying and flailing to an eternal sky that won't shutthefuck up about its tepid limitations on time.
---some like it abstract,
some dig the concrete
i am merely singing slow psalms to my sluggish feat
some wonder where
some wonder why
i wonder to eternity tepidly true
never to say the expression 'die'.
we have gotten here, it is the free jazz of a missouri spring.
voices call in my cranium and out the corridors car horns thrashing in the breeze.
i look out the window at all this.
-----=how typical, a spring poem, about looking out the window,
yet i think so well of this thought excursion,
how sure enough,
soon as this poem gets its legs
it all falls down.