and as always

after the dust clears from another excursion enacted on a whim if I happen to glance at a thing I wrote, I have to confess to my most humble self, as much fun as it is to doodle with a free graphics program and giving lightness and darkness and contrast to photographs, I will never compose a thing that tickles my bones near as much as just about anything I’ve ever written. Maybe it’s because graphics programs give the impression of making colors easy to portray with a click of a few buttons; without having to rely on abstract imagination. But it’s still good exercise to tinker with that stuff. I just must understand it will never be my Main Thing. My Main Thing slinks along the lines below.

***************

the best music
plays when the least
are listening
and the composers

have written no new tune
since Powhatan’s
grandpa woke to them
for another day

of hunting and mounting
sweaty naked maidens,
before bells rang
in steeples; before

scripture-spitting killjoys
came to paint a free
wild world
in modesty