22 December 2002
At 35,000 feet we plane
Through the sky. Sun
Piercing windows, splashing
Across many laps.
"Run!" Says I. "Fly
Outside this aluminium tube."
But legs congeal in their tubes,
And sitting, I consider this plain
Sheet before me. Words fly
Outside my brain, piercing as the sun
On many laps.
Liquid light drops splashing.
Flashing on my brain, splashing
Ink flowing through tubes
Lapped
By the page in this metallic plane.
All is a gift from Sun.
Words, paper fly!
Silly fly.
I see spider lurking
In a corner far from Sun.
From his tubes your tube of life
Upon his radial plain symmetric
Your life juice I see him lapping.
Lap juice, spider!
Silly fly gives you words
To spin your plain symmetric.
Life juice splashing
In their tubes.
Energy from the sun.
This fat and shining sun
That feeds, flows on many laps
Is in this pen, this smooth sleek tube
And gives me words, when written fly
Across the page splashing
Their life juice across this yellow paper plain.
If yellow paper lap these words splashing
As we fly in this tube metallic,
May plane, may juicing insect, may poem shine glorious as the fat and shining sun.