Via Negativa

You had nothing you said,

Though all of our life

You'd reminded me that there is no

Such thing as nothing

In nature, in like manner naturally

The grasshoppers drowned in the pool

It was my piece of work to net them

Until nothing remained

But the shadow of wings upon water.

I opened some volumes and stole some words.

Here, place them back.

I opened a door and stole a certain number of air

So-breathe.

No, you don't know what I mean.

I've alone seen one movie,

The individual where the boy wags

The plane's wing

Over his mother's house

To say he is well,

And encouraged through shadow,

She gives milk and meat

To a young German boy

Who will not thank her.

You think you can achieve off the movie-set?

You better number your lucky somethings.

Some people's lives are, flash to moment,

A live-shot of a car explosion

In individual of the countries where they hate you,

And the ease of the world, believe me

Is marching with signs of their approval.

Not everyone regard with affections Jesus or Uncle Tom,

But I do, sweet suffering Christ,

I have affection for them and I love you too,

Generally and specifically,

So march upon over here

And let's have a certain number of love,

(put your sign down, I say,

Lay down your v_nity)

You sorrowful monkey you.

A movie station or an ocean . .

Sorry to get metaphysical upon you . . .

I'm physical about the metaphysical:

Coming from or in an ocean . .

You come too!

And if you insist upon staying there,

All alone in your blanket,

Jesus or Uncle Tom or I

(You draw near too!)

Will rock you in our arms

And the ocean will be your bed,

O sorrowful and suffering. .

The cries of the monkey upon the movie-set

So distant now,

We leave our shadows and follow

Copyright World rhyme Incorporated May/Jun 2004

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