Someone Runs into Me

 

Here I am, the Land of Nod, 

forever wandering, 

back from having been gone, 

fatter, older, balder, 

stubborn, an unrecognizable man, 

middle aged, 

having been dead a long time, 

having gone up in smoke 

in the vaginal moment O for Dr Desire, 

it is, 

no particle, 

winter day, 

the slippery street, 

that lay, 

is glittering in the rain.

 

*

Someone runs into me 

in the puddle, 

vaguely a poem on his lips, 

trembling, 

yet his face is flat, 

makes, 

in fact, 

that I seem even slipperier, 

the inclement weather, 

the indestructible cable car 

lifting me uphill, 

offering me the breathtaking 

view of water, 

mountains, skyscrapers, 

distortion.

*

Shooting root without sperm, 

deep into fertile earth, 

I see her, not even asking, 

simply assuming, 

proceeding from the presumption that, 

it is easily said, 

soon agreed, quickly accepted, 

Paradise on Earth, the Garden of Eden, 

a view of Wellington in Tokyo, 

delight in the present tense, 

the overkill of synonyms, 

the same is not the same, 

infra-thin, 

and the one betrays the other, 

there is something else going on here, 

a doubling, a development.