I am, as a thinking, word using muser,
of less
or more weight
in word's worth
on balance,
a day lived, doing nothing, but respiring
and desiring a joy use, as joy making use,
of me.
What's that worth
in time?
Time taken,
as granted, mine
to make use of, true,
any use I wish, after all,
all I've done
tripping old tale snares.
Recoding NANDs just
in case we need a second
reassurance this is the way
to enter
in to the peace past understanding creation,
the mindform used
to tell whole truth, sworn
to tell, circumstantially, as happening
to be led
to leave oaths being,
once sworn, sworn forever, and not like
happens only in movies, everytime,
once, regarding a quantum
of original thought,
rethought,
from first stories
of language, lingual word sage
tongue use, local mimicing ****** speech,
shibbolethargic sibblicity
barring outsiders
from making sense, save when
we all use our bodies to talk, say,
what we feel about the truth, the worth
of a straight
against a full-house, in a game of liar pride.
The winner calls the bluff,
or never shows her hand.
And all those free from guile, go on dancing.
falling man, falling star, falling conscious... feeling old, in life's easiest ever way.
