I pass nothing in the wuurld
living by inference
I am skimming quickly through Goffman
and Williams in motor car
If they were to ride together holding flowers
red-nosed with rippled tears in the wind
…flip-flip, curiously approaching boastful
disclosing no meaning whatsoever
in a muted circle of sick suburbs
It is no surprise to say that
this warm and frivolous intimacy is dearer
to me, than those “men of imagination”
sauntering in, spitting for service
Mary and partner all day
perfectly harmless while cosmic songs play
a creative force lining one’s garment
a full range of spring (& ball)
slipping my mind
