Parading

The earth is a crumpled sheet.

On Earth I had been held,

On the dazzling borderline

(Do you think?)the

There are days we live

All I’ve got to show’s a splinter / For my little fling

We are not unique, and we are.

like when I can’t sleep I say to myself

Is nothing,

Pensées sauvages: wild pansies, like violets, have the shape of thoughts, savage thoughts, colored thoughts, sprung from a stem.