It's called "Whirlpool Suite."
"In regards to sexual relations generally it
is best to have them with another person."
[LAUGHTER]
I'm going on record with that.
"The golf guide will not jump up and bring you a scrambled egg
nor help you with your jigsaw psyche, compliant as it is.
Not like rainfall making cloud feel good reciprocally
pyracantha feel buds-out good.
Perhaps I cut the alpaca short but while dewy in gazing eye
and spit on you, it cannot make much help except for sweater
raw materials.
'There is no point using the hummingbird as a girder,' say
the volcano people not known otherwise for their sensible
choices.
Once you've found someone in the swimming pool
or hopping about in blue shoes, try
not to change too much that person who
is, like you, wandering inside a ghost
although a new shirt might be nice.
Ditto chains if everyone is willing.
A blue teardrop hovers over the green mist.
Only for the duration of an eclipse the
rose presses its lips to your ear but its forever we seek
in each other, time loosening at its joint,
door swung open on a field of bluets, parenthesis
of seabreeze, spokes catching the light
so it seems the wheel is turning backwards as if to tell us
something about time, how it comes in parts, apart.
Time in estuary, in gasps.
After relations, it is good to stare at the moon.
The hand reaches out into space.
The heart thumps.
Spacious upstairs, dirt floor below.
When you are 70% sure, act because the other 30%
is reserved for hope which is doubt turned upside-down.
If the human soul is just a bright idea,
does that make it exist any less?
It is for questions like these the above 30% is used.
Earthquake's ideas for the planet's inner pressures.
Gaining-speed-flaps-down idea for lift-off.
Caravaggio's idea just to put the faces of people
he knew into the crucifixion.
You'd have to be crazy to walk down an alley with Caravaggio,
yet he could be the one for you or someone like him
but less dead, with a facility for capturing the blaze
of being, who packs a knife.
Pain and pleasure are two signals carried
over one phoneline so you might feel awful and wonderful
at the same time as with an ice cream headache.
Some say Galileo stared directly at the sun
until he saw it naked but I bet just glancing
at the beloved sprays a fine mist
onto the cerebral cortex so one stops
thinking about death at least for a little while.
Light knocks you from your horse, et cetera.
Every day is crash day."