I need to know each one,
to taste the rock
and swallow the sand.
To spend a life caressing
each bird and fondling each
weed, with my grimy,
orange palm.
Then stand atop,
Raise my arms,
And be struck by
Lightning.
—
ca. 1990
I need to know each one,
to taste the rock
and swallow the sand.
To spend a life caressing
each bird and fondling each
weed, with my grimy,
orange palm.
Then stand atop,
Raise my arms,
And be struck by
Lightning.
—
ca. 1990