As If You Could!The bumbling hungry part – the stumbling
into walls of air and tripping over nothing there –
the grabbing at whatever is – the babbling
to yourself as if the only way to keep a balance
were to leaven it with fizz: and yet – deep
below the jabber grows – unutterably slow –
the strange soft glow of a complete immersion.
Self has staged its own desertion. Loving
this means letting go. Be sure of it. Let pure
hilariously evident empirical eternal evidence
suggest: you’re free. Every breeze down Stockton
Street through Chinatown is San Franciscan
gold: a bold duality of hot and cold: each side
will fill you: one with heat, and one with chill.
Prepare (as if you could!) your heart to spill.
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