who else am i supposed to be
if not myself

Point B
to
Point C
is a distance
I'm not sure I will ever reach.
But I've moved
from where I stood and so far,
I think that's
pretty good.

the butterflies all flew away
broke out of their coccoons
now they're all free to play
but in the corner of this room
sits a lonely caterpillar
wishing he could be someone bigger
i know how you feel little man
you're the same as me, doing whatever you can
only difference is you know where you are
where you're going, you know how far
how long till your days end
how long till you join all your friends
maybe you don't know, maybe you don't care
wish i could afford the luxury to be here and there
wish i knew exactly how i will turn out
wish i knew exactly what my life is about
a simple goal, a simple road
just one destination for me to go
must be so nice to have wings and fly
too bad we can't all be butterflies

You seem to know where you're needed


to whom this command addressed is a crazy me-man,
a street walking big DaVinci ibearded mumbler,
the kind you would cross the street
before the smell is close enough
to sending you running, not just
politely walking fast but a souped up
hi-yo silver away!

this guise no surprise,
you must and do
already know where I’m needed,
sealing the pact with a yellowtine post-it
writ in simple block letters ordered in a brewed cafe,
my latte arrive states my name as

come see me

come to the time the place and the date

and prepare oneself for twenty and fours
of rigid interoperability as our systems
interface reach the pure state of 100%
ultimate wordless dialogue

communicating
in with by
perfect silence
heaven

you will write a verse,
my reciprocation
is already prepared

this terse repartee
will many spawn poems generational
for your family amazing and extended

an elephnat never forgets,
his servers are a rolling stone
with no direction home,
capacity unknown
every blade sighted retained,
and every sensate glance
a phrase seeded

departure will find me clean shaven,
pressed jeans neat,
and shod in well worn dockers,
cloaking my innate invisibility

when the children ask who was that,
you’ll sage reply

one new who knew where one was needed