#744 - with love to busting

 

15.i.22

744

3.15

with love to busting

for Beth Spencer, riffing on her ‘such is life in a small town’

 

with love to busting

is where we began

is how

or I like to think that way

 

then come to the mirror

and kitten to play

little wooden and dolly too

 

this is all about getting it wrong

how you decide a life

 

see self at the said

that’s pride

then call God

 

littlies

spread out

ripples of innocence into the world

 

laughter runs the rug

much tickle

rounded with a rest

 

the records show born somewhere

or they’re lost

so are we all

 

with love to busting

so surrender

now think of forever to fit

 

life is an expansion

imagine impossible

where else from?

 

nothing everlasting

why do they call these flowers

 

it’s easy to think

someone has to have thought of this first

when actually so little is like

 

during the day

but on a clean night

it’s obvious

we must be far

 

if a rock comes from another world

how much more likely is life?

 

everyone likes to imagine  

poor Ned

 

there’s something not quite right about truth

how a world goes round

 

a book begins everywhere

in its first light all the day

 

ah yes we have been here

and so will again

pictures for gratification

 

with many if not most things

it’s because I love you

we do

and might get busted for

 

wherever one opens the page

is a world falls in

with love – a signing off

 

you don’t leave anyone

they come along with

 

wherever the chariots for gridlock

artisanal bones under

 

yes you can ride an empire down

and so we should

 

with love to busting’s how to come

read it whichever way

 

but everybody lied

it’s how we get to sleep sometimes

and make the future fast

 

who is it fills the heart?  then ask!

 

juggernaut, behemoth

id monsters, much besides

all in a bedtime story

a habitat blue words

bower birds connect

told with love to trust

 

at the bottom of the maze where we live

and of the day I mean

 

so far sung

the happy returns

none of this ‘ye know not’

 

but there is a shadow valley

developers move in

come by way of aphorism

would make a mountain angry

 

and all across the universe

call it!

such is life!

 

poor poor possums

poor poor bears

 

cliché is philosophy

we read it upside down

inside

this is the life worth living

turn it up with a stick

ah ha!

 

they have rivers here just for drowning

a noose for the office

for the commute

and/or chained to sink in skirt

 

deep of the cliché comes light

and then thing shows through word

 

somebody said the truth would set free

it’s better not to look

 

doesn’t matter if no one said

won’t matter if you’re gone and dead

now it’s been said and done

 

but let me

tell it once again

 

on a clear night

is it not obvious

we must be very far?