“When a man is willing and eager,
Sitting on my balcony feeling the earth move, watching the trees speak to one another and listening to Jackson Browne…these are the bits of poetry I cling to. Words slip slide down my shoulders across my skin and bones and I can feel small bits of rain gently caress my feet. I can genuinely feel a light inside of me. Or a beast. Or a burning ember. Or maybe it’s just wind in my chest. The world has sunk into my pores and I am with it, of it, connected to it.
I want to be all places at once.
I want to suck the marrow out of life.
I have passion for the green, growing fleshy earth.