I fight the letter, the word, the object, the statement.
I resent my own vanity and arrogance.
If I am told to not speak until I am spoken to,
I am just fine singing.
I have a collection of feathers and bones
and two cats that love me.
I am a one hit wonder
with one too many hits.
My mother once read,
"Give me liberty or give me death."
I want liberty enough.
Enough to go blind, deaf, mute or dumb.
Enough to give away the I
and take whatever I can get.
I am not afraid anymore.
Maybe just a little.
Let’s start with a dance
and then move to a rhythm.
Maybe we can find G-d in all this dust, soot and ash.
I am practicing kissing the ground, Rumi.
I’m not afraid of heights, darling.
I will climb to the top of Babylon
and talk to God for you.
We’ve been talking about emotion all along,
but if we came down to it all,
it’s simple math.
Your one is worth the stars.
I would be a zero for that.