When I write my poems

If i write them Who will translate them Into chinese I was told they have Thirtysix Words for Different kinds of shame

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Because words and turds

If i force it it’s not good If i sculpt it after It messes up the pure Creation What am i To do

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This just happened

I was sitting Waiting A new bug Landed On my shirt pocket I invited it Onto my finger It accepted The offer I moved My hand to where Both of my eyes Could see it It turned to Look at me I moved my finger It moved again To look at me Again We stared deep Into each other’s eyes Something stirred In both of us I suppose So it seemed Then it jumped Into the sky

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I forgot my first title so I’ll call this fear and/or favor

I saw before the me An endless wall The strivers We call ourselves humans Struggle with ladders They try to set set them Up right Against the wall Then if they can They try to start to climb Some fall off the ladder And we see them fall Some get to the top Where there is the Hole of unknowing Where some fall in And some jump in Some hang out On this side Afraid to proceed We on our ladders Get to watch them Maybe we learned Something about Something maybe We think we can Learn to climb More gracefully or Something Or jump through The hole at the Top feeling Something we think We want to feel Then we might Feel better about Something And think It is better Because we think we Feel better

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