April 3, 2005

Blog Suite

When I write blog
I am moved by strange whistles and wear a hat

When I write blog
I am the hunter. My prey leaps out from where it
hid, beguiling me with gestures

When I write blog
all may command me, yet I am in command of all who do

When I write blog
I am guided by voices descending from the naked air

When I write blog
A revelation of movement comes to me. They wake now.
Now they want to work or look around. Now they want
drunkenness and heavy food. Now they contrive to love.

When I write blog
I bring the sailor home from the sea. In the back of
my car he fingers the pelt of his maiden

When I write blog
I watch for stragglers in the urban order of things.

When I write blog
I end the only lit and waitful things in miles of
darkened houses

-- Apologies to Lew Welch who disappeared. (Wherever he may be, God rest and keep his Beat soul.)

Posted by Vanderleun at April 3, 2005 5:21 PM
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"It is impossible to speak in such a way that you cannot be misunderstood." -- Karl Popper N.B.: Comments are moderated and may not appear immediately. Comments that exceed the obscenity or stupidity limits will be either edited or expunged.

I really do not believe in it. But if I did, IMHO you are one of few that I would nominate for cloning.

In lieu of that absurd thought, may God grant you a healthy and long life and please do not "disappear".

Posted by: larwyn at April 3, 2006 6:46 PM

The pelt of his maiden..... Are we not all brothers under the pelt?

Posted by: Gagdad Bob at April 3, 2006 8:12 PM

Of the pelt and under it as well.

Posted by: Gerard Van der Leun at April 3, 2006 10:30 PM