Watch closely
there is nothing in my hand
except maybe for my other hand
listen I am just making all this up
for our mutual benefit as I go along
hacking at the thicket of quiet
with inherited machetes
troves of words dulled but trusty
toward the grove of a possible future
which could enfold us both
when we're inside
it comes as a relief
simply to be included in the mystery
but just the same I ache someday
to do work that is real
I know this is wrong but I
still believe it
my heart is an engine
my brain the grim determined conductor
this body the aggregate
of loud black iron tunneling
headlong into the formless newness
the sheer insouciance
of tomorrow morning.
