"It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society." - Jiddu Krishnamurti

Peripatetic

autocentric use of language notwithstanding
(the suchness of ‘em-dashes’ and such…)
the lines become less clear, age
advancing upon age, a deterioration of habits

an insistence of quasi-novel remedies
(the poetry may yet just kill me)
new signals – more easily found outside –
outside the continuity of a particular convention

living outside today means living outside
: a pre-literate space : haunted by the future :
nothing especially poetic
but another way of getting there

to write a poem just now would mean
suspending the remembrance of all I lack
which is (schizoid personality disorder, or no)
the Way to live in any case

during the long marches between parks
I don’t think much – it’s just a practice…
in lovelier moments on the lawn
I consider with joy all we’ve not yet tried