so I throw myself again at what I can't control
and throw it, like a potter, in that which I can.

if all explaining
is explaining away

and telling merely
telling tales

I still will
favor speech

to silence;

truth is out there
is a thing

and briefly
we inhabit it

the fat kids with rat-tails
the fat kids with mullets

Into the woods

I will be taking part in a one day poetry, performance and visual art event this Sunday in the forest of Auvers St George.  It's an hour or so from Paris by RER.  Full details here.

home tonnight

Four o'clock and a taste of glue

    

my lips are heavy;

they wake me from sleep

I am breathing the air of the future.