Everything It Is This Is Not I think, shit, anyone can do that. But I don’t. The movie marquee was laid to rest amidst its numerology of flowers. Did I mention relatives Stood around, as trees, Branches lifted skyward? There were only three of them. Hosanna the Bunny Rabbit in the Sky anyway. Hosanna the clanking in the sky. Up there you can see trains from below. You can count the ties whiz by. You can arrange them into Lincoln Logs of toothpicks. Still, you cannot keep a tally of the spinning. It’s all confusion Now, never and always. What is the answer to you speeding from Reno? Does it rhyme with saguaro? Does anything that matters? What was the trajectory from Anne Frank’s house? At what point do you meet yourself at the speed of light? Is it Amsterdam that is below sea-level, or is it all of us? This is all so ironic. If only you had configured properly, instead of spitting. Ah hell, you know what they say: You can’t exonerate them for trying. I won’t stir the soup if you don’t. |
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