Saturday, November 25, 2017

I Cast a Net

Around Myself,
It made a little Room,
I caught myself, there,
Within with Harp and Loom.

Yes, I'm Self caught, to do
The thing I Must, but self
Fortressed, by my Will,
Work I've done, Trust.

Where one find one's Self,
Wrong-found, through toil,
Futile conditions, Creation--
Burts from exactly this Soil.

Now is to the Telling, This
Tale a Rocket, to Infinitude,
Rhizome, mycelium, Project,
Starlight. We Make ourselves,

Live. Feat of Imagination.
Dust is the only Other. And
Already Guaranteed, Purpose,
Experience Faithfully Recycled.




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