Too lazy to be ambitious,
I let the world take care of itself.
Ten days' worth of rice in my bag;
a bundle of twigs by the fireplace.
Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment?
Listening to the night rain on my roof,
I sit comfortably, with both legs stretched out.

With the light of a new day
peers just in reach,
The scars fade
and the tears dry
my lips tremble
with a seed of hope
planted in my heart
it grows, and grows
until the blossom
turns my head to to sun
and my lips point to the sky
I have blossomed
from seed, to life

I am a man: little do I last
and the night is enormous.
But I look up:
the stars write.
Unknowing I understand:
I too am written,
and at this very moment
someone spells me out.

uneasy flower
stretching and yearning for you
fed by your power

the sun sees all shame
trace yourself on my petals
i **** the dirt dry

sweet kiss of winter
when I need to be alone
wither, please, for now.

crawl to me in spring
pollen all over your face
i want to smell you

your roots on my roots
pluck you from your comfort zone
toss you in compost

shut the blinds on me
as the sun i tend to feel
like i'm far away

on the wet cement
i shared myself in the dark
passed a cigarette

one bike ride so far
solitude is still sweetness
my legs are throbbing

in the chirps of morn'
i hear their frantic bird songs
awaken newness

CAME the great Popinjay
Smelling his nosegay:
In cages like grots
The birds sang gavottes.
'Herodiade's flea
Was named sweet Amanda,
She danced like a lady
From here to Uganda.
Oh, what a dance was there!
Long-haired, the candle
Salome-like tossed her hair
To a dance tune by Handel.' . . .
Dance they still? Then came
Courtier Death,
Blew out the candle flame
With civet breath.