an old poem...reposted due to the work WR at DC's:

When I had sea legs
(if Richard Brautigan was in my band)

grey sea. rays seen. grace. serene. grey sea.
meaningless nonstop mind chatter all while craning up and up.
melted windowpane slow motion up and up.
walk-in fireplace. kiln wall race. win fall pace.
around and around the up and up.
he stood in there.
they’re in the up and up.
hoping for grace serene within the rays seen above the grey sea.
pace around the nonstop craning.
he stood there.
after lighting a huge fire in the walk-in fireplace,
he stood up there looking at the grey sea.
win then fall, no more time to pace.
no one found him for two weeks.

but they knew what he had been doing that last race around the kiln-walled room.
behind the old Victorian’s melted window that splayed rays into the sea view.
I craned and projected meaningless nonstop mind chatter up and up to that window.
he blew his brains out looking at the ocean after rehearsal.
reversals in the up and up.

I wasn’t around and around when it wasn’t on the up and up.
no. one. found in the around and around. for two weeks.
grey sea. rays seen falling apace
an in nonstop mind chatter cut line win fall
now I crane forever around the up and up
after rehearsal reversals and cooled kilns
grace serene. for two weeks.