Earthly think of me
as the unrolling mists
stepping out of the way, they grind
the warm fortune of unknown feet
...
SHE comes back
where always she does
among a lot of ones, an only one
un-beloved and hanging pendant
...
I’ll cross the Mississippi
my legs are far so pretty
rhythm the steps
any longer the drowning dawn
...
So let’s imagine Bloom
the Mister one
counting the heads at the funeral
like an Ulysses from the abyss of a dawn
...
What about lending me a penny?
The first foot.
Can you lend me a penny?
The second foot
...
Then I was born
to flying now.
A flight might be a bee
once I thought
...