Sunday, November 19, 2017

10,193. NOT BEING THE ONE

NOT BEING THE ONE
Well anyway, nothing fell from the 
sky today, or it if did it didn't hit me. 
I wasn't in Montauk, but it might as
well be. I was here and there. Man.
Together.  My fashionings of that
slip-dimension feeling sent me
onward. From the nearby, broken, 
Ikea lot, I watched the Newark
jets come overhead. Never spoke 
a word, just talked. A real place for 
cripples, that is. Ramps leading 
everywhere, except up or down; 
people eating wallops of food in
a sit-and-frown position, watching  
jets come in overhead. It's a pretty
mean scene with the mark of a mission. 
-
Not being the one doesn't mean you're 
the other : I'm a sheep-herder, 
I'm not a shepherd.

No comments: