Know know, the knowing, ever reaching, expanding, like ice, sticking, irritating, emerging with confusion, a hurt head, wondering, what happened?  Jeeze it's impossible to find anything. The sun is blinding, reaching, the stops drag onward, reaching the city, reaching the city, my bags got too many holes in it now, but jansport holds up, mountain men making their next exit. Held up by their lack of nutricion, their eyes crusty and tired, not lumberous jacks but minstrels now, with a few driniing songs to keep from souring the mood. On and on and even flow

I sit, I wish
    for the glistening moon pools
          to sprinkle down my way.
                 Dreamy starry sky,
                    and the soft combing breeze
                      sings sweet lullabies
                    to the indigo trees.
              Sing the same to me,
           and I'll go where you go;
            river so wide,
          wider's my window!

           Now dance as you've done
        so many times before;
      embrace the morning sun's
       broad rays on your shore.
                                                         Far banks shall appear
                                                 with the coming of April,
                                               and strike out I will
                                            through the dusty rock passes
                                       through mountains of yellow
                                      and bridges of gold -- until
                                          I gain the city of friends,
                                             lamplights and streetlights
                                                    ­   and buslights and doors
                                                           ­       will be closed.

                                                        ­Gone, then, are the wishes
                                                 and wonders and wants,
                                      the things that I hoped for
                              a long time ago.

                     The trill of the strings
                           (my only respite
                                from keen madness
                                      or a tantō
                                      to wish me goodnight)
                                 rises on palm-tops,
                            floats in cool grasses,
                       gives purpose my soul.
                                  So much peace I find
                                     in warm charming moonlight....

                             Tomorrow, concern may put your course
                                       on a laxed and lumberous way,
                                  great river of the dying day,
                          but as long as my will goes on,
           and the wonderful will of the Maker,
     those fleet-footed brigands
won't catch me, for I am
      faster than they are.

...Calming storm,
     you stirrer and squeezer,
       present most of the time that I need you:
                Set my mind,
                   for all its vain attempts;
               make me relent,
                 and I won't deceive you.
                        Till then, I'll be leaving you soon,
                            but know my April blush
                               is the same color as in June,
                              and the fabric of all that I hope for
                            is the cloth of the comforting moon.

A trunk's rigid leather embraces my horizon
and sweeps my eyes beyond. It's bark
filled with valleys of opaque sap
beckoning a caress, to be one, trapped
in a timeless world. Above extrudes solitary
branches of shimmering leaves, still, lifeless.

Grass blades crinkle like foil,
buckling under my lumberous legs
and filling the dead air with brief life.
A flower unknown juts between my toes
with a color of animity and spite,
shifting and warping against my flesh.

Behind me is the brevity of self.
Sounds of key presses and strokes
that are replayed and redrawn,
layer on layer until the familiar
was just some sound; some color,
before becoming dust.

My form shifts like leaves of Autumn,
the same, strange, the same.
Fingers become silver twigs, arms
become careening branches, legs
spreading tin grass, mind
oozing memories for the after.

I do declare a truth
to be reckoned with i reckon
however you wish

a snake or perhaps a fish
of the snaky sort fell on my head
with such a gold translucent filigree
of dream
that all of the all of this
seemed emptier and sorta pale
the next day
and the day after

so the snaky fish says to me
in words instinctively understood
by all six month old babies
it says

the woman with black painted eyes
shall drain you of your blood
your white force shall dribble out
she will absorb all of you
you will become an ape

now the fishy snake after saying this
grew wings of rainbow and quince
flew far in skies of diamond and pearl
rose mist and lily dew
and died
dropping upon and emerald sea
and instantly was eaten
by a scaly beast sable and jet
which dove to the deep       the center
of a warm salty confine

now the scaly beast rested in the deep
moving only its lumberous jaws    to open
as iridescent schools of silver and glittery fish
dashed into its gaping maw   and to close
at rhythmic intervals
then the scaly beast sable and jet
winked        and spoke

you have followed the snake to find me
you are of the snake
the woman is the world you call real
her black painted eyes
the born self adorned corner you perceive
your blood and white force
are the wind and the breath
from the place where clouds are made
she will absorb all of you because
it takes more than four mountains
to feed a ghost
and you are only four mountains
you will become an ape
well     you know what that means
and with this the beast was silent
and closed its indigo eye

and after pausing to admire the deep
the warm salty confine
the beautiful iridescent silver and glittery
fish dashing into the maw
at rhythmic intervals
i moved
and was instantly awake

this i do declare
and you can reckon with it
however you wish