September 19, 2015

I don’t even half choose

to carry loose change.

It lets itself be known  to me.

A quiet man  might be noisy.

I search for the underlying themes

That surface, as blue gills & dying perch will do.

I search an unresolve.

I search an unsettlement I mean to settle up,

Which flotsam, which riches  from the deep end;

Raucous & compelling, can tell all  in sleeptalk?



Find a pen

And something to write on.

Mind,  legs-open for

Something to write on.



.                                                                                                       (from 2009)


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