You have the voice of someone
Who would finally become an irritation
*
It was the Season of Lost Clowns in business suits
running after buses, waving bouquets of flowers
trying to grab the driver’s attention…in busy streets…
*
Rumour has it!
Has what?
Has all the answers guessing
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Who thought they could fit all
Who thought they could fit all thought in their mind
And make hard science sit with soft heart tissue
In seeking answers spring answers first
Why make life a huge brain? I am a little church!
Why place everything into numbers count only number
Numbers only count numbers only numbers…
Flowers don’t count, don’t count flowers…
A mind is but a speck and all thought
And finally to dust are all minds…
If people sat in minds’ like a good chair
With spirit cushion the soul the matter the flower
Not concrete, realise, but fleshy, would think, and more feel
And feeling is alive
Don’t discard the wolf and sheep of being
The dangerous drives we try to fit straight
In to straight jackets or in to numbers
And now nothing wild can happen wild
Each dark matter now precisely mathematics…
What wolves have you fed your mind with, the wolf with your voice?
O, all you who do not sing or grow alive, your mind is still small even
In its bigness, making God the Greatest zero never counted
