How is it to hunger
for words others can’t say?
They can’t say them
for they wouldn’t be true,
and who doesn’t bleed
for a bit of integrity?
But they want to say them,
to fill the hunger.
Thus does one hunger beget
another, and eventually
a famine.
How is it to hunger
for words others can’t say?
They can’t say them
for they wouldn’t be true,
and who doesn’t bleed
for a bit of integrity?
But they want to say them,
to fill the hunger.
Thus does one hunger beget
another, and eventually
a famine.

I’m on fire and swimming in a pool.
I’m swimming underwater and still on fire.
But nothing burns
but me


Can I make out of words
what I wanted to get on film?
Ten seconds of the freight train
rumbling by?
And a boy biking,
his pedal striking
the kickstand loose
and useless?


Won’t there be endless
progress into the past
and won’t we find there
everyone no one
ever heard of,
and won’t they stand
and flourish finally,
just as they’d hoped?
