I recalled
with a
sinking
feeling that
the surface
is above me.

I am buoyant,
and I am
rising.

I am slow
to avoid
the bends.

share with me a life full of apple seeds
and plants. a life bounded only by

--?--

old used bookshops - - - bookships.
set sail with me, won't you? set sail
with me to the ends of this mighty
earth and dirt spurs my moments
to perfect oblivion- full, so full. empty,
with such fullness. you are --?-- and I
am in love with you. you are in love
with me. we are in love. like sour
diamonds and tents full of naked adventure,
riversides, mountainview ride into lopsided
beauty- I am yours to keep, darling, if you'll
have me.

I am a loaf of bread. sweetness lies in more
infinity than information pamphlets and happiness
is a warm gun. my love told me that my sadness
for the world held a wide-born pretension. I am
pretentious. I am sad for what is not necessarily
sad; it reminded me of an old zen poem: One day
Chuang Tzu and a friend were walking by a river.
"Look at the fish swimming about," said Chuang Tzu,
"They are really enjoying themselves." "You are not
a fish," replied the friend, "So you can't truly know
that they are enjoying themselves." "You are not me,"
said Chuang Tzu. "So how do you know that I do not
know that the fish are enjoying themselves?"