Brought up in a post-modern relativist world
I cannot believe in direct messages—even from a text.


I transpose one reality into another
John Donne: “So if dream I have you, I have you.” 


I’m at my service yet I pay bare attention
I keep an open and soft mind and notice what’s happening in the moment
I am told that all things that arise have the nature to pass away
I believe this
It stands to reason
But there are other ways of looking at the same phenomenon
Impermanence can be seen as a vehicle of a process we call becoming.
I seek to find freedom in the way I relate to what’s happening in the moment.


You’re almost always there

You’re always almost there




I write silently as I try not to disturb the silence around me. I become part of the silence and stop writing.


 
Can’t Write
(Written in 2005)

Blocked 	
	
blight			
bite

Blocked 	

bright
	light


You became a blue light

Something I could see one night



Brants broke our bric-a-brac
In the bright light
Took flight 




Basic Logic  for the Chinese Year of the Pig	          (2007)

Every cat is animal.
Every pig is animal.
Therefore every pig is cat.

And every dog is not vicious.


A certain braveness comes into it after a while.

Things take as long as they take
You can’t force the issue

Anyway
It doesn’t matter
Nobody cares
None of this is really happening

Pick up the pieces
The thread

Barely a thought.

For a long time tongue tied 
and speechless 

Events in your life, my life, our lives
Events
Disappearing acts
Magic tricks
Heavy burdens

Each step of the way
Short bursts of thought
Ideas
Actions

In Paris once a long time ago
Before I was even there
I was there I was there
With and without friends
At different times
With different friends
Without any money
Often without enough food 
I’d eat foie de morue from a can
That’s cod’s liver
In a can like sardines
Very oily and tasty
Good for a low budget
I’d eat it straight from the can without bread
Sitting on the edge of the bed
In the little room
Hungry
Alone 
With my back to the world
And the world’s back to me

Then it was going to be suicide by razor blade 
But first a pantomime concert by Marcel Marceau
Then a proper meal in a restaurant, as a farewell gift, a final emptying of the purse.
 
The next morning, the blade pressing against the skin, unable to make the incision, waiting for the courage to do it, the
doorbell rings. 

It’s a telegram. A Dutch filmmaker wants to meet me under the Eiffel Tower tomorrow for a documentary he is shooting on young
Parisians. 

I show up and this man I had never met before gives me a big hug
Then he asks if he could do it again for the cameras
The Dutch TV crew films us hugging again. 

Life continues.