title

can’t help but feel all the no’s

sometimes all the yes’s and the maybe’s that were
ultimately yes’s turn to no’s in my head

changes, and then all i expect all day from everyone from the universe are little pops like farts of no’s like poets poop poems and fish throw up guts

can’t help but feel all the no’s, want to get to know my local bartender, want to know gloves want to know
my own handwriting

want to know why all those yes’s all those yes’s all those yes’s just crash like atomic dust like space bunnies and data packets
into not much more than no’s and no’s aren’t good for much

these days.

 

February 2007