You can tell the difference between a star and a man because the man has teeth. Against the heavens there are always teeth. The dawn, the most important of all, well, it’s toothless also. Please stop kidding. You certainly love your teeth. But again closing your eyes there’s just a memory of the Milky Way, all those broken windows.
Bus Going Somewhere (True Story)
A woman, a stranger, a person entirely unaccustomed to the blind
Leaned close, rustling something in her hands I knew not what
And said: “I’d have to kill myself if I was you.” I think she had flowers.
She kneaded the cellophane, breathed hard. “Oh I already did that,,” I said. “I used to be you in the far flung spindrift galaxy
Called the Black Eye. I rode a bus with hot house flowers And hey diddle diddle one day I couldn’t take it anymore
So now I’m a blind man beside you on a boppity bumpity bus.”
Yes in case you’re wondering, I smiled. She got off at the next stop.
“A dear child has many names.”
Finnish proverb. Dear child. Iris.
Mouse behind a chanterelle.
Who cares the clouds are low?
See how the grass waves?
Throw open the doors.
A strange proficiency in evidence
Look for it among people you don’t know
That’s kind of “the work” of Christ
Listening to the radio for company:
I might have been another man
To a different tune—
A black underworld between stations
Maybe I got it wrong and the stars do have teeth. And they have voices like coarse children.