Fool's Calligraphy

Look at me young

Born on Pascal's wager

Born to foolish smiles that

Climb the mysteries

 

Born to struggle

Selling every drunkard dust for opiate night

Look at me

Splintered

A spore man rich on

Dimpled canopy

 

Born to dawn’s brow and spurious fury

A monster shark gaze in

Caves festering wick,

 

Born to drum the infidel 

Make fire fed delusion,

Born to saw the tired leg

Circling from globe glum particle

Affectionate victim of war

Spirited body of Buddha that weds so eagerly

 

A lusting avalanche

So willing

So anything made free

 

Born to template terrible conscience

And again the maker’s mark

Blackens the adust skin  

Black becoming streams of Aurora

Aurora becoming sparks of extreme

 

Where I go there lurks the dark road

There calls the howling better heavens

Turn a page and hear my breath

applaud

 

Bending back the bow

 

Look at us free

Born to death

Born to live

The plants in green pots of afternoon

 

Reasons

Armed and legged insects floating

On your touch

A jazz lit pond

Starves the invading cornea

 

Far beyond repair

Here we will stay

And sometimes break

Gathering must into

The edible descent

 

Look at us young

Where birth and afterbirth meet

Two visible strangers

Swaggering a lantern back and fro

The next 

All but fool's calligraphy