Regensburg @ W1 11/11/17 #poetry


There is little joy in measuring
The levels of Crazy
In the world

I am soft and crunchy
Wet and warm
A piece of bread
Dipped in a bowl of soup

Some day our body
Will choose to eat
Itself

Until then, we notice
The things.
Exploding drops of
Water on the windshield.
The rumbling road
That feels like thunder
From a coming storm.
The way the music
Changes when we listen.

Good times can be serious
Walls are good for hanging art.
Holding the roof up when it rains.

We like to use the wall as a metaphor.
Build the wall.
Tear the wall down.
I’d like to tear down this metaphor.
A wall is just a wall.
No wall is higher than the Moon.
No wall is deeper than the volcano’s
Lava.
There is no wall that goes all the way Around.
Only we go all the way.

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