Must be something
like this—to rise
and
shine and dress warm-
hearted and keep
on bidding—hello again, there,
hand-
some each day to your rundown habitat.
To say—another arcane
morning, have we? Coolness, friendly
fruit flies, spotty mirrors, fresh
coffee cinders!—when
Kanye West and FM classical
start commingling
in your barefoot mind like
new math—
recondite, but not
quite as
dusty-hard
to figure out as those
red plums splayed out
across the table; to still stay
open enough
to wonder—are these, maybe, half-
remembered half
notes on some Delphic
staff? Or—
where-in-hell'd they
come from at all? All while you're
busy sun-
saluting really
quickly
since, truly—
each new day is such—
a stretch.
