rit

What else would these pages be good for --
I w nder, the weather begs for late fires.
In the ____ of the few weeks to
come -- New York again! I'll make the
trip-up. W/ Juliette -- chug down some little
progress on the book. Still I consider a title for
the book, still I nuzzle light beams.
It came all this way for us.
If it didn't hit me in the face it
would have simply transferred its heat
energy to the black floral rug.
         Or a patch of dirt,
p   or my bare ass. (still fantastic)! Some of these photons
would be "wasted", some to spur on the
violets, the basil & mint.
Who writes anymore! Seldom do people
think -- that the act is everyday --
Should be a day-to-day occurence
'doesn't yr hand hurt?' Yes, eventually
      as with any exercise.
Maybe they'll buy my drinks again.
Maybe. Also an exercise.
The bottom of my play list gives a sliver
of the calf to the green air. The mind sings
a narrow song - a leaf scratches by an agreement.
Whichever stroller passes by w/ the
most features wins this poem.
Or whomever has the sense to dress for the
park impending evening
not just conscious
of what room temperature is.