you know you take words and some cement and glue and you make them all stick together into verse and poetry; and you gather love like a rolling stone and you blow wild seeds in the air and you’ve got fine diction and refined sentiments and it’s made into a poem and it all makes sense oh baby, it all makes too much sense
you work like Vivaldi and make poems about seasons or you work like Goethe and pour roaring poetry to outdo Shakespeare and you frighten Edgar Allan Poe; and you have great insight like the Buddha or some Great Prophet or Only One Savior and you give us mighty fine inspired poetry pure, pure spirituality; or you just take Revelation like the countless mindless followers the Great Being has been plagued with since Inception and you make verse and oh, it all makes sense it all makes too much sense and you take my foibles, our foibles and your poems laugh at them or you put fine words together and string beads of harmony like a millions-dollar necklace Richard Burton might have offered Liz Taylor oh you know you make poems that come across time and cyberspace and they all maketh perfect sense but how about baby you and me make verse that knocks out sense and makes no sense? poetry that takes the mickey out of meaning? no, not for a change - but forever? no, not for entertainment but for nonsense? so that senses is knocked senseless and we escape you and me to North Caledonia to Paradise of rhythm and senseless-beauty and we have a beat and we have a pulse and the street gang says in awe: Oh, hey see these two babies move they’ve got the style they’ve got the swing Yeah, they’re a fine couple of babies! so we got no sense and sense-less is meaningless so we got no sense in nonsense either or senselessness for that matter we got nothing baby (well, nothing on as well) but plenty of rhythm and sway we drop all fine subjects that determine our lives so we are all freed of lies maybe (we don’t know what will happen) and we got the spirit of poetry beyond sense and line and word and form and intent and purpose and that gets all the universe rocking (no doubt, there’s enough rock already) baby in one baby-making sway how about that, baby? you and me abandon sense and dance naked between planets and stars?