#118 - a little wrestle with myself

28.4.20

118

a little wrestle with myself

and mystery of am

bag of breath, bones

flesh and bounded

just with such ideas

skies variably over, ours

all otherworldly with this one      

bitten and bite back

that’s how it is

to be in a body

ancestors for cameo

guess a little here

place bets

we’re not even looking out at the windows

they’ll just have to nose us out

bring my wry instruments

say day

call conscience

discover the neighbours speak

piano waves and colour to splash

watch the illiterate whirl

wordlessly join in

for the effort to remember

whole nights of the raw experiment with luck

who’s down?

who’s in the limbs of tangle?

on the ropes

and here’s a hold

                                                             

brood, joy for the singing all outside

apologize

hello

neither in book not conversation

eye to eye

news from another sphere

rush to record

down for the count

in the canvas

all falling

all this for the sake of haunting

there isn’t a way through the dream

but you are

now and then a bell intrudes

of course, fake

in years long past

and here we are

to dance is all the body

otherwise up to

you have to be the listening

so silence

sometimes in the library weep

that I won’t read you all

but travel till I’m gone