If I Rest, If I

I Have Been Holding A Dialogue With Myself And Girding Myself To Stand Fast Without Running.

In This Particular Tub, Two Knees Jut Up Like Icebergs, While Minute Brown Hairs Rise On Arms And Legs In A Fringe Of Kelp; Green Soap Navigates The Tidal Slosh Of Seas Breaking On Legendary Beaches; In Faith We Shall Board Our Imagined Ship And Wildly Sail Among Sacred Islands Of The Mad Till Death Shatters The Fabulous Stars And Makes Us Real.

In Spite Of Everything, I Still Have My Good Old Sense Of Humor.

Intoxicated With Madness, I'm In Love With My Sadness

Even Amidst Fierce Flames The Golden Lotus Can Be Planted.