Not Another Rumi Poem - Taxi Sky Decrying Limitless Limit - Mock Episode #78 Poem by Warren Falcon

for Ted Berrigan, Edwin B. Jerkin, Verona U. Hasben

'It's time to go mad. It is the day of the apocalpyse
the year of parrot fever! What am I saying?
...
Winter crisp and the brittleness of snow
as like make me tired as not. I go my
myriad ways blundering, bombastic, dragged
by a self that can never be still, pushed
by my surging blood, my reasoning mind. —Ted Berrigan


dream's no longer
detail-remembered,

s'blotted, only scraps to poke at -

something about
(o spare me)
a Rumi poem,

a turbaned Sufi hack
at the wheel, a beat

VW taxi, bondo-ed
presto-change-od,
yellow bright

(can't
fool me) ,

drives my

denser body jam-crammed
back seat behind of the DRIVER

my window blacked out aka
s'no seeing 'the Path' clearly

destination long overdue

Return/Reunion
to/with 'the Friend'


Did I make it

almost out of site

into unannounced

dys-tances dim,

diadem-thin?


s'dem

tail pipes

stems


mit ashes,

miles of 'em,

windless traffic



Ejected duly

Street corner

rumbles sub rosa


'Just the thing! '

jerks an

altared Grate

incarnate

incenerate

trace


- dyslexia nervosa

out of body Sub Rosa -


'has

anhedonia

seen my gal? '


Notch a'

sudden,

sullen

bracing

Blur into

frames'

powder

blue

blue
sameness
bright/dinged
(why choose)
yellow-suited
predictable
helmeted men
at war with
pavement 5
stories below
mad to get to
gas, rusted
pipes a'leak,
perhaps,
Karamazov
'mock episode'

hard left turn
signal - blink

blink blink


I BREAK FOR

Ibn Ben Blossoms