Pastimes

Every day I start over,
Describing myself to myself.
Wednesday. Clammy hands,
Humid mind,
Chinese whispers all around …
Reverie’s secretions thicken their ooze.
What can a man with a mouth ulcer
Make of philosophy and theory?
Footnotes usurp the text.
Ragged, impromptu, impossible man,
So inventive in your miseries,
Keep trying on different hats.
A knock on the door…
Why not let the killer in?

A blind old dog farts in the corner
Where a spider draws out magic from its belly.
Be happy; every day has a name and number;
And only glass can shatter.

The idiots in the orphanage
Flap their arms, trying to fly,
And drink from the dogbowls so thoughtfully laid out for them.

The mad old bird has fouled its nest.
The house stinks like a corpse.
A soldier’s helmet pierced by a bullet
Sits on desert sand.