I Felt A Longing To Compose A

Every Noon As The Clock Hands Arrive At Twelve, I Want To Tie The Two Arms Together, And Walk Out Of The Bank Carrying Time In Bags.

We Make The Path By Walking.

My Life Failed On The Very Day I Was Born.

I Got About Half The Time I Wanted To Write Poetry. I Got About Half The Time I Needed To Be A Father. So There Is Something In Adulthood That Has To Do With Accepting The Half Of Things, Allowing A Renunciation Of The Other Half, Accepting Half A Basket Instead Of A Full Basket.

If A Man, Cautious, Hides His Limp, Somebody Has To Limp It! Things Do It; The Surroundings Limp. House Walls Get Scars, The Car Breaks Down; Matter, In Drudgery, Takes It Up.