I know my job.

it isn't on the assembly line.

there is no recipe for what I do.

no program, hints and dashes
of this and that,
no progenitors,
all orphans, but with a tradition.

write to
elevate and levitate.

****** hard.

talking supernatural,
no adagios with strings,
to lift you up mechanically,
talking real magic,
no music, no tricks.

the banque of words busted.
deposits, sure, why not, yes,
withdrawals, no,
you are on your own.

no drawing down of previous product,
if you write anew,
you write to renew,
the reader's acquaintance
with delight.

magic potions used up,
magic words all forgot.

but before I write,
before I bid au revoir,
de vous,
jusqu'à ce que nous nous reverrons,
of you, until we meet again,
gift you a poem salutation,
I asked myself this?

tho not flawless,
for when will that ever be,
has it met its primary purpose,

to elevate and levitate

the passerby, the stranger,
the guest in your hostel,
for but a nightly minute?

then all well and good,
and this rest-less passage,
a voyage well spent.


5:44am