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THE WORLD I LIVE IN I have refused to live locked in the orderly house of reasons and proofs. The world I live in and believe in is wider than that. And anyway, what’s wrong with Maybe? You wouldn’t believe what once or twice I have seen. I’ll just tell you this: only if there are angels in your head will you ever, possibly, see one.
When I moved from one house to another there were many things I had no room for. What does one do? I rented a storage space. And filled it. Years passed. Occasionally I went there and looked in, but nothing happened, not a single twinge of the heart. As I grew older the things I cared about grew fewer, but were more important. So one day I undid the lock and called the trash man. He took everything. I felt like the little donkey when his burden is finally lifted. Things! Burn them, burn them! Make a beautiful fire! More room in your heart for love, for the trees! For the birds who own
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FOR TOM SHAW S.S.J.E. (1945–2014) Where has this cold come from? “It comes from the death of your friend.” Will I always, from now on, be this cold? “No, it will diminish. But always it will be with you.” What is the reason for it? “Wasn’t your friendship always as beautiful as a flame?”
DON’T WANT TO BE DEMURE OR RESPECTABLE
Why am I always going anywhere, instead of somewhere?
THE STORM Now through the white orchard my little dog romps, breaking the new snow with wild feet. Running here running there, excited, hardly able to stop, he leaps, he spins until the white snow is written upon in large, exuberant letters, a long sentence, expressing the pleasures of the body in this world. Oh, I could not have said it better myself.
