"*let it guide you blindly
beyond grid lines
into new territory
remove the shadows that block the sun*"
leigh
am still crazy enough
to need to know
if you're awake in Paris,
eyes open in Delhi.
are you golden, my Jerusalem?
do you read me in Hindi?
eyes open, Carioca?
are you baking khobz in Marrakesh?
making love in Los Angeles?
is it raining in Spaining?
or strictly limited to the plaining?
in Hertford, Hereford, and Hampshire
is the kettle lit over the fire,
for morning orange cream biscuits
and Earl Grey
in the UK,
or just the usual breakfast tea, Geoff?
are the babies asleep in the keep,
madam p.,
and safe in the bends of the River Missouri?
are the dice making music,
writing showgirl poems,
on a late Friday night
in Las Vegas?
Are the fisherman trawling on
the Black Sea,
any luck catching herring?
have the foxes returned
to eat from the hands gloved,
by the postman on his
Her Majesty's rounds approved?
oh dear, seems I've crossed over
into a different grid,
new territories in all their glories,
so back to bed I'll head,
removing shadows from my eyes,
dreaming of
#collaboratewildly
later today,
early tonight,
because
there are poet's lying down
on the great avenues of nyc,
observing the mega-sized city
experiment in living
the + & the -
the promise and the Aquinas,
debating the value of life
in the now and the
hereafter
oh boy, it's undeniable,
I am so liable,
guilty as charged,
I'm the craziest of the
still crazy after all these years