I’ve Watched Myself Perform Small Nobilities

73

When I look around for proof
That I am alive, epistemology aside
I am a living metaphysics scattered

In the wind, dreams bought by books
There is no defragmenting this love
It’s the self-search of sheltered legacies
*
And I become a candidate
For door to door sustenance
Looking for proof that I exist

In these empty faces, these cynics with luggage
Perhaps I should be practicing not having
Because possession, isn’t in the cards

I’m no longer waiting, I’m simply
Pressing my ears and eyes into everything
Hoping that I don’t abandon hope too easily
*
I won’t rush death a bunch of dust
But leave what I am, stuck with you.

One thought on “I’ve Watched Myself Perform Small Nobilities

  1. Your sentiment and photo remind me of the night in Manhattan that I learned to play trumpet, mentored by an inebriated, homeless Tony Fruscella, who once had been the jazz toast — ‘jazz toast,’ I like that — of the town and husband of Morgana King… a timeless night for me. His tones were what spurred me to speak with him.

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