The birds sing for me,

yes, they like me, and the hemp --


seeds next to my chair.

Collecting little

bits of happiness: fresh bread --


and filling the bath.

After making love

I do feel just enough cold --


to feel that I'm strong.

*** in the morning

is nice, before the duties --


we may for a while.

Not using the bike

is Zen: wishing to arrive --


where you always are.

I took pictures of happiness:
dead sharp intimate couples
And I felt like a peeping tom

This is how it went everyone
who viewed the series
No one's heart was opened

Not even from the cheerfulness
or the suppressed sorrow
of laughing people

nor from children, their play
their earnestness and their sweet looks
It was a lot, but no happiness

Then the winners, the jubilant
pleasure that spouts into the sky
with thousands of hands

and the ****** peace of sleep
the open mouths, saggy faces
and scary dreams, again

the absence of happiness
which only comes down
at the very last, in the morgue

slumming heat blooms open pores
old cedar smells emit
from the backs of wooden draws
season
  and gelid memory
          are stimulated
****** thrall
   portal
     nostril thrilled
       into a receptive mating
so clear
drilled to receive all the flowers
               spent perfume
all the heavings and leavings
         of odorous humans
arousing the sense of it all
vaporous rewards
      produce a relaxed flushing

High in the mountains

there is plenty of heaven --


to make you happy.