words

’You must wear white garments from now on.

Kick away shoes and know earth with your feet’

gift words are sprinkled lightly through this very life

on the schizoid lips of drunkards

in a sharp hand slap on my cheek

on the sanctum of the master’s tongue-

a stranger speaking destiny

on seemingly un-kissed lips

the kiss sought out in

the smooth flap of

mouths of truth against each other.

you see, words have ever and all been uttered

the gabbling carousel turning without cease

the entire supply sprinkled in planet rings

with the Big Bang.

But are we ready to hear them

over tea, secreted among platitudes

and the incongruousness of thought and speech—

cups and saucers which do not match?

After all, the higher self does not take tea

with the sugar of insincerity.

Its real tuned ears are able to catch

words on the muzzle of every species of wooden horse.

’I must wear white garments from now on.

I will kick away shoes and know the earth with my feet.’