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Excuse me miss me which way were you talking when you were walking backwards inside my door like to know if you were leaving or coming in because you were moving towards the living room but often backwards so like you were leaving then you brought all those candlesticks in the room and put on a negligée so I figured you were staying I put on the soft music and we were dancing around on the carpet cut the rug a little bit I can’t remember any problems anymore can’t remember.
and whether it is what you needed to grow,
or something that sort of destryoed you,
how would you ever know
balderdash horatio jitters out front dancing to the raindrops.
every second syllable is like some leggy filly full of spice and vinegar.
i step out into the moonlight and the howling begins before i’m even thinking.
neighbors close their windows and disconnect thier phones, oh wait, they can’t do that anymore.
the century is changing color like a clear glass of water with a new drop of red ink every 5 minutes.
the trees look sleepy and peaceful wearing the misty morning but they live so long what would i know.
finally something and then something else but once again it is only the beginning of the mystery.
Myself in a shell of television.
Another manikin football game
very savory cigarette wine
running like a river down
stand people screaming
this is part of a big old
stadium collective they want
one sided windows & have
one deal only.
What I want for Christmas:
To forgive and be forgiven.
To have Patience for people,
and for people to have patience with me.
Love. Light. Desire to Live and Celebrate the warmth
and essence of radiant goodness at the core of everyones
true nature and heart.
For Christmas this year I want to feel––(to allow––to invite––to flow with and
bloom)––the immense gratitude in my heart for all my family and friends––
gratitude for the human capacity to Feel Gratitude and be Aware and
Gratitude for being one of the little drops of water, in the infinite, edgeless,
roiling cosmic ocean, that gets to be curious about itself,
and wonder, and be in awe…
And on a good day, be really happy, and on a bad day, be really miserable––
aware of the illusion of the happiness and misery, and to know the truth is
far beyond my capacity to understand for more than a nanosecond––but, that
nanosecond being eternity, and then to know, like what John Lennon said,
“We all shine on, like the moon, and the stars, and the sun”
preposterous snowflakes of restitution.
snowflakes of many wheeled concerns.
snowflakes of horses running through burning barns.
collections of snowflakes hiding
inside Faberge eggs
snowflakes melting with abandon and bliss
the moment they land on the top of a wave
in the ocean.
snowflakes of peacocks worrying themselves
like supermodels rushing to meet fleeting rock stars through
the leggy streets of new york.
snowflakes of passion and amber.
snowflakes born from fire dancing up through chimney
to imitate stars and fireflies.
snowflakes beating their heads against the prison walls
wanting to take away all the pain
from every prisoner . . . for however long
snowflakes swirling in the heart, like in a snow-globe,
resting then swirling, resting then swirling,
ever re-newing joy.