I cannot harken a lamp post For I do not know anyI cannot hear the sound of swaying wheat For I have never felt it’s rustling velvetI fear the ocean So I will not sing its praisesA bird perched on a branch Does not excite a metaphor Nor does a tassel of hair Loosen my creative palateA murmuring sound From the alleyDoes, however, Elicit dreams from mudA misdirection, a pregnant pause, Calls for exuberanceA fleeting gesture, a goodbye Allows for exultationA denial, an awkward kiss Are legends eternalAnd the pace is quickening To a sickening speedInnocence is lost On contact With the air around the mother’s wombInsight is gained With each awful glance From my deprived neighbor Undressing my soul from my bodyI am certain of salvation For I have seen creation In those brown eyes I have felt condolence In your choking hair Your body Waiting to be engulfed I have listened to that feminine snore And wondered aloud If I sound the same I have whispered in your ear And found you reticent

I know nothing is an accident Way leads on to way I know the leaves scattering before my feet Leave nothing to chance All points lead Me In your general direction