There will never be happiness
            without

sadness.

Like there will never be a rainbow,
   before the

                               rain fell..

a glass blown urn,

pit to the stomach

of fire.

convexed with bounding

residuals.

gush thus water, gush thus fire,

gush thus air, gush thus earth,

gush thus ether!!!!?

meta-realities of ostensible I-s

deigning to unbecome, seen aright

in part.

elemental satiety--nonplussed aums,

lightless dins held to nothing visible.

Pain is a border post
sometimes a fence, sometimes a wall
against which I sometimes lean

fearing for my life
I can only sing
for myself, not to drown

in blues, raise my voice
and keep dancing
while I'm not dead

I rather sweat and stink
of misery than do nothing
and long and sigh

sadly, looking around for light days
without pain, the border crossed
or pulled down by my Mojo

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.