The Hour of Relative Impermanence

The hour of relative impermanence

slips by like a ghost --

kind of hazy and midnight blue;                kind of

soft and satisfied

I lower myself onto the paper

it takes me;

we breathe together

Listless river of night

soothing pond of time

we dream,

we use our words in the silence to say 

yes.

Yes, we know them well

Yes all will be complete

it's a dream, you know

don't be afraid to face it

we make these dreams

the day is functional

the night is cerebral

we make these dreams

We sift ourselves in time

Is this me?

Or, it could be this

notations and footnotes

I could be an essay

I could be a piece of cheese

But no, I am a Yes

I am a sultry Uh-Huh

moving smoothly down that placid stream

with a persuasive mellowness,

I communicate with my existence

Sensations unite

it's the hour of relative impermanence

I dream,

alive

and in this dream

I write an essay               And it says

Yes.

- Dec. 11, 1985, A.D.