Aristotle's Mathesis

the climb is capricious
like children after a storm
racing out to play
who have scattered
a sticky deck of cards
across the porch


the configuration of the mood's
syncopation is jazzy and
just like New Orleans
blue baby blue
you are surely a feathr weight
a pretty woman prone to
catching a cold


playing the piano
an upright Hobart M. Cable with
chipped teeth and yellowing ivories
you chord a diminished seven, reaching
then giving it up to
walk the dog the neighbors
hide, remember a theatrical girl scout
of eight
she screams a cry unaided

while that world of LONELY
I'M SO LONELY I'M SO LONELY
I'M SO LONELEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY
is only Bobby Jameson from the closet
to kill the dead to be grateful dead
to sing about it
overscents the gay flowers
with Givenchy perfume



This is taken to mean the end
cold ash
empty pockets finas


the young girl wants to be understood
to imply another chance to
guess at what will come next
opening a letter like a cracker jack box
and asking for mercy with advice,


to see whre who has been
and what might be going down with the
falling shimmering moonlight kiss to
strangers
A strange ghost screams, "Get on the bus
lady! Hurry!"
She thinks of Chin's garden with spirit
and knows only the mightiness of
the psalms, reads the Bible for
inconsistencies. Measures numbers that
Plato loved Aristotle for.


A true poet loves to be warmed by the
reflections of modern music.
And leaves the old to the new, thinking
the odd line to clear vision.