Let me have the perfect body: Kerouac in '53,
before the world did him in. Let me drive
my Buddhist self deep into your wildness,
let me scream the one world and live forever.

________

All the words I need to say slip from me
like gulls, disappearing out past the shoreline,
but the silence is loud enough for the both of us,
Our four eyes demand connection, and we do connect.

________

Last night, late, I heard a cricket in the basement-
the rub of legs a talisman for nerve endings along my skull,
a reminder that life is not for explanation,
having everything to do with cricket
and nothing to do with me.