It's a while now but I feel like it again!

The feel for words , the need to feel them in my head,

then twirl them like a dervish in my mouth and let them fall.

Somehow... anyhow...

And I am confident that they won't come up with bruised knees!

I am confident they won't fritter away like the ice candy fallen from a

sticky hand into the dust, vaporizing in a blink of the eye moistening over

at its loss and then watch fascinated as the dark orange liquid makes a richer

puddle and draws in the ants , the passing mutt and the tch tch of strangers...


I simply want to stretch out between the head-post and the sunset at my feet

I want to stretch and scribble something.

There is a standing fan gurgling incessantly in it's wired mechanical head

facing no one in particular while I sweat over the words- fragrant powder laden

words with some of the lemon drink from the afternoon and green printers ink pressed

between the pauses ever so lightly that one just might pass them by- like so many

water marks of the day gone by...