The game of life is a push and shove
The finest gift of drunken purity,
The finest shift of sober reality
Always moving this way and that,
Always staying on the same circle
The spiral of relationship, the spiral...
Fabulous communication fraught with
Distress and intense connection.
What curse?
What gift...
What creation of, of, of...
Low battery.
You can do better.
You can create, you can.
Here I am.
What gift, what g.i.f.t.
Here and now.
I don't know a thing
Except what I create next.
What I create.
It is all a new scene, a new start, a new this and that and the other and forward motion.
Back to the beginning and around again.
What do I know.
What an interesting paradox.
Here I start, at the end.
Cold.
Tears and years and not any more understanding of the process than when I began.
Fuck it.
Here it is.