I can go anywhere
but will I? who is
it that is going to go
there? is it "you"? well,
you see you're no longer
here so often, instead I
just keep bringing everything
in but for what? questions
are like anthills, going into
them is very dark but I
imagine there's food there
Pigeons cover lawns and the
picnic table covered in notes
and my heart is warm and
hollow like a sore so why
not take it along admittedly
anything determinate sounds
awful as long as I'm
scampering around avoiding duals
of temperament what I'd like
is to keep going out onto the
little peninsula I found on
the wing and see it
continues as an archipelago
and I can swim! quite
rapidly
In junior high school I
was a bit of a track star
but didn't continue when
my talent became relative
I didn't really like it and
here I am writing these poems
they're nothing special the world
is full of them and waiting for
more though anywhere we put
it it speaks
Ah, a calm. the pigeons
flutter and flags stand limp
and the sun is hard before
setting, warming
I can go anywhere with you
