Brave
new words.
As
many as i could shake a glass of wine at.
To
the rhythm of these sound sounds i wobble red sharp fruits,
like
i am thinking
And
the mood, the mood of the room flickers with the light.
Words
bravely flung flow right,
fling
thoughts into flight
My
verbal bowling ball,
the
anesthetic of present space.
To
Exist
Is
The
Jewel.
Where
am i,
My
thinking grasps at ambiguity.
Here
at least is a fire, and the sounds
I
arrive back at the beat,
More
than a beat
Over
lay very essence
The
jive of a centipede across the floor.
Even
the plates, the chairs scraping and surfaces wiped
Well
it all grooves, in waves of wonder
