you know, mark, you can be
too greedy, not from the coffee
or the four DVDs, not from the
ploughman’s sandwich nor the
pear and peach smoothie, not even
from the bag of fruit jellies that
now you’ve opened you’re
probably going to have to finish,
but from wanting to carve a poem
out of every damn experience you have
sitting on every damn wall in
every damn town you visit while
every damn person walks past thinking
you’re a bit damn weird … but then,
nah, I don’t quite think so, as long as
you seep into the observation and
don’t ride it through somewhere else,
and you can check the ambition
with enough wide-open love to breathe,
you could sculpt poems out of
the very air where you stay put …
… and, besides, I’m getting one
hell of a sugar-buzz from these
sugar jellies … will I never learn!
————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–
air wormhole: retirement
attention wormhole: in the / Citadel / Park / a leaf / new / ly fell
breathing wormhole: landscape of cloud over London / with differing depths of grey
coffee wormhole: too much in arrival
distraction wormhole: may the supreme and precious jewel bodhichitta … // … take birth where it has not yet done so … // … where it has taken birth may it not decrease … // … but may it increase infinitely
love wormhole: slow enough / to have love
passing wormhole: morning sun
people wormhole: where else
sitting wormhole: the goldilocks stance
talking to myself wormhole: where it has taken birth / may it not decrease …
walking wormhole: ‘avenue of wraggled gorse tops …’
walls wormhole: that comicbookshop … // … in dreams