If you are reading this poem on a phone, note that the integrity of the lines, a major feature of poetry, is not displayed properly. Many if not most get cut short because of the small screen.

Congress can come to my bank.
I have ideas representational spiraling towards the universe.
I can show you yourself,
your muffin.
I’m not in a handbag.
I’m not parkin’ cars.
I look at the world and smile,
because I know its price.
It’s huge big,
but I don’t get lost in it.
I see the telltale signs of behind.
I can gauge the world through there.
The Spirit has the show.
Behind the world does.

It’s not communicable.
You can’t see it
with normal eyes that see vision.
It’s not in your visual field.
It’s nowhere apparent.
How do I know it’s there?
I can descry it in spiritual vision.
I see the substance of things.
I know that huge engines lie
in the fabric of the wood.
I can see the frontal of things
land on it.

I’m a thought proper.
Pregnant I stand and sing,
and I offend people doing so.
It’s cost me my livelihood.
I got fired.
I’m in trouble today.
I see it in spiritual vision.
All around me there’s trees
involved with my pen.
I’ve really written some things
alarming to the public.
They shoulder my hero.
They’re here and there.

Mainly what I show you is how to change
from one thing into another,
from a blind man into one who sees.
I show you how to bring good out of bad,
how to change your very nature.
Poem after poem
has landed on the world’s docket.
I don’t get known there.
Do you know the price of change?
It sits on your life
extractin’ good.
It’s costly.
You have to pay in sacrifice.
The world takes its toll.
People are very small about it.
Forgiveness and understanding,
no one gives them to yah.
You will be persecuted for good,
even if your sins aren’t listed to the world,
to the people in front of you.

You make power uneasy.
They can’t believe you’re there.
The people that hold the world
in its little stations
mostly are mean and jewel,
and it’s fake jewelry.
They’re petty people.
They have an arm on society
that robs it of its worth,
but they will tell you differently.
We’re used to this,
the hypocrisy at the top.
It’s all for show,
but here I’m gettin’ in those little wears,
like a community organizer
or some little boss.

Where do you find good
that’s good to everyone,
equal pay
even to the riffraff?
Is there a worldwide heart there?
Is there someone that embraces humanity,
has goodwill at all times,
treats people kindly
even if they’re homeless and destitute,
sacrifices for people
not worthy of it,
loves them too?

I’m not talkin’ about the perfect man or woman.
I mean they really try
to treats others as themselves,
regardless of the other.
They’re fair people
to everyone.
It’s me, it’s me you say.
Glad to meet yah.
Continue readin’.

You threaten people then,
challenge their sense of self,
will be very unwelcome at their parties
by your own sense of self.
You can’t shoot the breeze
and not feel the weight of other people
and their meaningfulness to you.
You’re flabbergasted by it.
It’s not a little show.
You examine yourself continually
for false pride and vanity,
for things that don’t match love,
and when people hurt you,
you feel that sting,
but you try to get your head around their price.
You study the world
and their place in it
to see what world needs arise.
If you act,
it’s not with malice.
Empathizing with them you understand
they need a reckoning.
Their world play has gotten too far
in selfish ends.
They harm.

Are you there my friend
in being good even when it hurts,
in bein’ inside yourself
an open vessel to feel other people?
Is that person in front of you
the weight of the world?
Do you take delight in dogs,
and can you feel a tree there
the livingness of everything?
Do you laugh with the wind
filled with the caprice of its consciousness,
identifying even with the forces of nature?
There’s more of being then being shows,
and we’ve come to the invisible,
but would we find you there
identifying with the wind and sea?
Great Scott!
you’re a tall human being.

The organic meanness of the machine,
that’s not your pride.
You’re a tall order.
You do penance for people.
You never leave someone out in the cold.
You’re understanding and kind,
forceful when you have to be,
but not mean and cruel.
You are so on yourself
to set things right.
Can I get across to you your underwear?
You have left lust behind.
It’s not what you do eat people.
The roles of sex are no longer in your play.
You’ve matured out of that.

How can I count this?
It’s my livin’ mood.
It’s my every day.
This is the price you pay for love,
and you’re not ready for it I know,
the death of your own
genital squeeze play,
but we can still have children.
Youth gives birth to our young,
old enough to know the consequences
and take on that responsibility
where society thinks,
where society helps them grow
where society grows.
We are no longer individuals on our own,
and we get along with each other.
Individuals have room to grow
and be themselves,
the freedom of their nature
that lets society grow.

I’m a social revolutionary.
I see the beyond,
and I carry my dogs there.
The world for me is paper thin.
I see the behind,
and I love it there.
My dog just messed.
Did you see that?
Can a poet have a sense of humor?
No, I don’t like butts and smelly asses.
I’m walkin’ on miracles,
this world set in place,
all its motion,
a storybook Earth.

I’m tryin’ to tell yah the price of the world
in seeing,
how you handle the world
in moments of gloom,
in cries of despair.
You look up
into your largeness.
You look out there
into your springtime.
You handle the world
as it eats you,
but you’re too much for the world,
and so it spits you out,
and you stare at it an equal integer.
It can’t get at you
in your lists.

We are a bubble inside
an immensity beyond time,
tiny as the wind blows,
a drop in an ocean
of continuous being.
We are one aggrandizing look
in everybody’s lookingness.
Worlds upon worlds
tell this show.
All-Containing seeing
rides us all.
We are a looking glass
into infinity,
and we only see ourselves
on finite Earth.
Ever being grows
to its larger glass,
and can you count that?

I’m on the high seas
of the bottomless lookingness.
I see larger being than ours
messing with us,
setting us straight,
and I can see bigger than them
beyond this universe of stars
into the larger looking glass that encompasses ours.
I’ve sat up there once
looking down on Earth.
Miracle on miracle bridges who we are,
who put us into this play,
the larger than time’s being we are.
So many seconds
started this show,
a poet here in your lap
singin’ the ends of time,
singin’ for all its worth.

I’m bangin’ on time.
I’m giving extra credit.
I know the hunt in time.
It’s bigger than stars.
I can grapple the world there,
just this old codger who walks his dog
and means nothin’ to nobody
savin’ a few.
It’s a laugh really,
the breath of my vision
and how little you see me.
I’m showin’ you inside.
These are the concepts of my thoughts.
These are the concepts of my dreams.
I habitat these thoughts all day.
Lookin’ at the world through a dog’s eyes,
I can gather life.
It’s insane really
I’m not the one insane.

Let’s go back to lunch, shall we,
that the stars in the sky tell us we’re wrong.
There are bigger fields than Earth,
and I’m countin’ stars in my diary
and know there’s beyond them.
I know you’re safe,
even if you get tarred and feathered,
crucified on some cross.
Nothing can touch the Spirit.
The soul is free from everything,
and it laughs
that gentle laughs
that knows the score,
but is sure hurts down here doesn’t it,
to be a beggar at time’s gates
just wantin’ to be loved?

That’s the shit of it,
and the soul takes these shocks and turns them into gold,
but we suffer the because of it
because we are flesh here not soul.
The soul is deep.
The soul is long,
and it might let you get killed before it shows itself,
and what poor bugger can take comfort in soul
when his trials and tribulations are happenin’?
This is the juxtaposition do Earth
we bury here,
where we mean something to each other.
It’s a lamp unto our feet,
ain’t it?

I show you the price of a laugh.
Let’s make this work.
The price of a fall,
that’s too expensive for us.
We are here on Planet Earth wantin’ to survive.
Will it happen?
It’s certainly meant to.
We have to get out of our kingpin.
We have to get out of our nursery.
We tarry there.
We rob there.
We’re stadium laughter.
Do you know how many eyes see us?
Do you know how many eyes care?

Let’s get this down to a science,
hey, everybody’s a hero on Planet Earth.
You can do it I know you can,
be there bigger than the world.
Are you just gonna stand there and do it,
practice burnin’ people?
Will you see my face?
I didn’t get away with it.
I shoulder more than society’s prison.
I shoulder the pain of the world.
Unhand me I’m free?
No, I’m not enlightened.
Good luck,
that’s in my hand,
and I may reach freedom yet.
Is that the answer to tomorrow?
Yes and soul release.
We interrupt this broadcast,
and it looks like
we broadcast now.

Everything bad happens,
not everything good.
Do we just spit at each other?
I’ve got radio silence.
You might kill your mistakes.
Look at this.
Why would you want me silent?
Maybe tomorrow lip service you’ll give.
They’re not hiring.
I want to go to Mound Key.
I just put a belt on and I
make that hirin’ the world.
Where is my pay?
I warned you.
Oh look,
the hammer,
it will get all over your fur.
Men home it’s comin’.
Everyone,
I’ve got a tale to tell,
and it shows.

Well it’s time to go to sleep.
A poem has not made you ready.
(vision of Grace Beagle sitting pretty and looking at me like in a life-size picture frame, two or three poses)
Taking a picture,
you know how dogs to that.
Keepin’ your fingers crossed,
we’ll get them here too,
Grace and Hannah
and Bruno.
Now be off with you.
I got a train to catch.
That ole boy put his foot on the pedal
and headed towards them yards.
We are not in hospital beds.