Fine (7/18/89)
Yearning, burning, twisting, turning, ahead, behind, all around.
What is that?
A creaking sound.
A cat, a rat, the full moon sky?
A star?
But know the clouds that lay blocks all that shines a cosmic ray.
A river sound falls in the dark.
Remember the dream about aardvarks?
Ants they slurp one-by-one moving slow beneath the sun.
Slurp yum, slurp yum, slurp yum.
Slurp yum he would say while sticking out his long, long
tongue
tong
fing-fong
ring.
A ring?
A ring!
Aaring,
the telephone goes.
“Hello”
you say
everyday…
Hello,
hello.
Hello,
why how are you today?
“Fine” we say,
in a mundane
way.
I’m fine.
Fine?
Fine…fine.
Fine.
Fine.
Fine!