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Poetics 4...

good for you man
you are lucky
filthy rich they say

when you are filled
with guilt
you fly to thailand
and ride one
of its boats on the
mekong river

you float upon the
murkiness of your
thoughts

that is good
your neighbor touches
his chin
and nods

people here have been
killing themselves
as though they have
nine lives like
the legendary cat

of course even with
nine lives
because of that hasty
hate
they never ask
whoever
that they come back
and begin their
beings again

so no one has ever
spoken inside
that dream
no one haunts like
a horror story

everyone speaks about
a certain silence
hints about a slim sorrow
it is a world of
anything goes of
anything said
but there is nothing
really direct as
flat as a wall with
white paint all over

there are sketches, etchings,
somethings
come-ons, let go's
no one minds at all
everyone is busy
wanting to understand
but no one really
does
the real thing

swans floating on the river
butterflies floating on air
dirigibles exploding finally
over the news...

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