old photo for an old poem
Here are the words
Stretched like plain canvas
Confined to the slow funeral
Of grey day dawning:
I believe in Nothing the
Evergreen truth the starry blue
Setting and a child learning.
I believe in space-word-contrast the
Shame surprise that Nothing exists and
That something in arousal
Is a brilliantine thrill
I believe in the earthbound sense
But to creation the senseless is
Real tangible, touching and sexing
Like air & water colliding, touching
Like being moved, sexing like
Thinking and holding your own thought:
I hold me in my own hands.
