nevermind
love came one day on
a fine day or maybe on one
finer than non-finer days
when fog’s both thick and thin
for some joy to steal in
it came in unrefined
undefined almost
as an unpaid
apology it came inside as if
both coming and not coming’d
earn it a heavy fine and I said
when it came I daresay
but nevertheless I said and I said
without (or almost without) apology
oh fine
it’s free let it come in let it be love’d
cost me no dime
but hey
said love then said (abruptly)
never mind
but what said I do you mean
bringing in
the mind in-between
what said I does luv-a-duv need
the mind for
yeah well no said love (pensively)
well
you know
(then kindly)
never mind and
no said I (insistently)
well I’ve met never
quite a few times before and yeah
I’m prone to mind sometimes and oh
I’ve also I think on some
highfalutin
perfunctory plane I guess
(yes I most certainly have feigned)
to have known the mind but no
I don’t seem
to have heard nevermind
sing in sync outtatune in style
ah the cost love replied
(giving up almost)
when you let in
(almost) love but
but love now sang (unsure of almost)
(tryna tune) once again
(and I hummed the refrain in sync
attuned old style)
nevermind dammit never you
mind
A Midsummer Noon’s Nap on Snooze
Oh yes, ’tis true I dreamt of you a
loopy midsummer noon’s nap—it was like
a blink-n-miss flip—like a tincy-wincy
daydream’s cartwheel—like a star-eyed
Broadway tap-tune
sling-fling pocket-glitz—
a ruth-mirth face, less-fulled then
flopped…O yes,
I recall…’twas the heat trap
on concrete pavements ’tween glass
facades…crowning
a garland of sweat beads…on the
forehead of my snoozy midsummer
noon’s nap…It was just that…
Oh, my dear goodness…’twas Just That…
but I woke up soaked / in
slashes / of an incoherent Indian
monsoon’s // splash I woke up burning
I woke up enveloped / in a rain’s wrap / I
woke up strummin’-ta-ra-rum-hummin’
the rain’s rap until // un-desilted drains
choked and carried me ’cross the
expanse / and scope of a city’s map and I
woke up / to a jolt // I woke up.
Once again. In trance. Not of you.
Not from some substance. I was woke.
To a bleak new rain. Of yellowed leaves.
Light collapsing. Scratching skin.
Transfiguring. Screeching. ’gainst silence
shrieks. This time. I think. I drowned.
In deluge. Of Fall’s wrath. In godhuli’s
dust-haze…
and winter…The
winter wouldn’t get to know
my name…That winter…Did you
cup for me snowflakes…Yes that long
winter…it froze spring…The spring
ring…my name…Somewhere mid-you…
mid-realm…’neath frost…in that
midsummer noon’s
tip-trip - trappy-nappie streamin’ dream.
There’s NoFuture in This Bound Hourglass
that which wecamearoundto prepondering—the future
thatwhichpresseddownpoundingona
couple of poor grains at
the narrow
neck
piling up
piteously at the
bottom of this time-plagued
hourglass
Is
nothing but
the past flipped and posing as Future
everforevernever to be a
to be,,,
oh! i forget! i’m trying to break
free
of shards
that came with being
t o b e.
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