1 when i stand around among poets i am embarrassed mostly, their long white beards, the great bulge in their pantstheir certainties
i don’t know how to do what i do in the way that i do it. it happens despite me and i pretend
to deserve it.
but i don’t know how to do it. only sometimes when something is singing and so far
2 when i stand around among poets, sometimes i hear a single music in us, one note dancing us through the singular moving world.
when you stand around among poets what do you hear? is it a single music in us? or is it the sound of a tune slightly off key?
when you stand around among poets is your prose filled with promise and fulfillment? or uncertainty and self-doubt?
when you stand around among poets do you see the beauty in every sunrise? or is it just another day?
when you stand among poets……..
Hope all is well family, have a great weekend. Peace, Tenthltr2u