5 to 10 Minutes
August 01, 2020
Five to ten here
Write a poem about it
And get angry about it
And what good it does
Blue thumb
You drew it yourself
And might get ink poisoning
If you’re not careful.
We went to his house in
Venice.
And smoked cigarettes and ate lamb
And listened to his records
He seems like a cool person
The smoking and the cooking
And the music too
Music, always music
It gets dimmer
Colder
And the contemplatives
Weep.
For they are too
Contemplative for their own good
What with their drawing mazes
And lists
You come here to sit, think
It’s a reflex
She has a tattoo on her ankle
I wonder if someone died
Do people ever take the time to
Revise? Even as he writes
This he looks at it with disdain--
Oh so much potential.
Buzzing in the pocket
This mailbox is full--
And the planes fly over
Not to be seen till they reach,
And the contemplatives sit and
Think and be happy tracing the
Ebbs and flows of their
Brain activity.
The wonder, ‘why not
Us?’ but it’s far too
Late for that now Roger,
So send me the notes
Now we wrap up our
Thoughts and this’ll
Be looked at not for a
Long while.
Unlike the sun
Setting here
Miles away. Reach
Out. Reach.