PERSONAL REVELATIONS OF 2003
I am in my middle errors waiting in line to migrate
the incurable shadow of a dog follows me everywhere
I am fond of migration especially if it involves
being pardoned and anesthesia
the best anesthesia is of course evening on which
I spread out my books to relax them
evening is a giant shadow that overwhelms the shadow
of a dog but it is still incurable
the number of my errors is always half of itself and
the hours I had counted on to move up in line have
been startled into flight and leave together in a
flock of one mind glossy in the sun
inside the day given it my life comments on its time
morning (
a ladder of actions
) evening
in my mind I am lying on a beach of pardons listening
to water yelling for more water and looking at
an invitation to a reunion of errors
and the return is a long way off from staying put or
staying apart but I get up and start walking as
if I were the dog or incurable