Here now. It’s past three in the morning and I am exhausted and need sleep but my mind is racing racing racing. Were we ever this lucky and unaware of it? How the world turns, how the universe breathes.
S. and I just talking all night. From one country to the next. One gate to the next. One airport to the next. All the choices I made perhaps led to this moment: the lampposts revealing the bridge bit by bit, myself not really knowing where we’re going, but we’re going nonetheless.
Here now. Perhaps that is enough.
Yes, I’m Truly A Dunce
Yes, I’m truly a dunce
Living among trees and plants.
Please don’t question me about illusion and enlightenment —
This old fellow just likes to smile to himself.
I wade across streams with bony legs,
And carry a bag about in fine spring weather.
That’s my life,
And the world owes me nothing.