When It Snows In Your

Taxi September Along Jessore Road Oxcart Skeletons Drag Charcoal Load Past Watery Fields Thru Rain Flood Ruts Dung Cakes On Treetrunks, Plastic-roof Huts Wet Processions Families Walk Stunted Boys Big Heads Don't Talk Look Bony Skulls & Silent Round Eyes Starving Black Angels In Human Disguise.

Breathe When You Breathe. Walk Where You Walk. Talk When You Talk. Cry When You Cry. Die When You Die. Let Go When You Let Go.

Many Seek And Never See, Anyone Can Tell Them Why. O They Weep And O They Cry And Never Take Until They Try Unless They Try It In Their Sleep And Never Some Until They Die. I Ask Many, They Ask Me. This Is A Great Mystery.

I Don’t Think There’s Any Problem With Advancing Consciousness And Becoming More And More Aware Of The Struggle, Not With The World, Not To Convince Other People To Do Anything. The Really Interesting Think Is The Struggle With The Self, And The Relation With The Self, And There Is No End To The Improvement That Can Be Done There, The Discoveries That Can Be Made.

One Must Verge On The Unknown, Write Toward The Truth Hitherto Unrecognizable Of One’s Own Sincerity, Including The Avoidable Beauty Of Doom, Shame, And Embarrassment, That Very Area Of Personal Self-recognition,(detailed Individual Is Universal Remember) Which Formal Conventions, Internalized, Keep Us From Discovering In Ourselves And Others