This is not empty space that I
inhabit, it is real, and within
it, I live. Small rooms, single
floor, flat world. I don't need
Columbus, or anyone, to tell
me any different. My globe
is only in my mind. All the
rest of this world is flat,
A single plane of linear
understanding : so sad about
all that. Stuck in La Brea
when I want to fly higher.
This mission is accomplished,
I suppose, only if I somehow live
to tell about it - otherwise you
would not know me, as I'd not know
of you. What I want now are
candy kisses in the dark.
Moses said things; like 'Lord,
here I am, who am I? I am not
a man of words. I am heavy of
mouth and heavy of tongue.'
Forgive me this, forgive what I am
saying. Whisper it, less than a
whisper, like of someone praying.