NOTEBOOK ON MY KNEE

i write OLD
five times
in the notebook
on my knee

& then TIME
seven times
with this pen
that the nibs
gone all feathery

& next is war
& i write that like a whisper
like this would make
all the tanks & planes
turn into whispers too

& last BOLLOX
eight times
one for each season of the year

MORNING REPORT 103

furious
at
whateverthefuck
on
a
beautiful morning

i swallow it / cough it / spit it

& count sets of five
in math zen
on my fingers

~

& i force-accept 

the yellow-white sun

its indifferent majesty

& unheard scream

its warming jazz

& coincident hug

up there 

in the Great Black Hole