Greg Perlman Poems

The starting point is difficult
For as long as the start is seen
Held to be something to blast from
As something held in congruence with
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Before now never is
And then has come to be
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So you hold me with your scorn
In a cage
Until the morn
Comes bursting through the sky
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The testing of yesterday's prophets
Along the road where the dry mop sits
Conditioned disjunction
Complete with the function
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To look for guidance from another collective
Is to create a brick house of incessant deceit
A collective in deceit of itself
And making existence that is infinite joy
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</>The line drawn in the sand
Comes creeping step by step past her head
So adorable
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