words

~

I wonder what is between us
That keeps us
Apart?
This thing,
The spin,
The scratch,
That time where it all goes
“Pop”:
Like a Kerouacian fairytale.

Driving down a corduroy road,
Weeds standing shoulder-high:
Machu Picchu,
Here we come.

The time,
The space,
The stars
   --Nothing but meteorites
     In a similar sky
     Between
     Spaces and
     Measures and
     Fields and
     Rocks
     Between
     The two;
But what of it,
And
What to do now?
One wonders about
The closed-eyed thoughts….
Indeed.

The rockets that fly
Between thoughts
And the images
Of
The
Mind,
Blasting away into infinity,
From the pavement
To the crystal
Ethereal
Truth.

What a life
I live.

S*
2001.11.18, 3 a.m.