a poem or two


you will not wonder who I am
but will happen upon me
in the marketplace
making strangers laugh.
all this time
I’ve spent worrying
what people think
& where the mirror is –
I could have been
feeding people
or dancing.
as long as I want
to be loved
more than
to love
I live in a small
windowless box.
what matters?
not the lie
that I must be something
someday my throat will swell
with singing
you won’t recognize me
but will laugh
with my laughing
both of us


like happiness

& poems
come only
you stop chasing
sit down
at the edge of your life
all stillness
& awe.


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