#timeandesire

So I could have a one—

While I stood at the edge,

Of this fountain—alone

In this courtyard...

  Sometimes I wish—I spoke French…

So I could converse about Sartre and Merleau-Ponty

In their mother-tongue,

Discussing the notions of, who I really am

And what—I really perceive…

  And occasionally I long for pure simplicity— 

Alike this fall day….

Where yellow and crimson,

Over take...

My peripheral vision— 

  And,

I don’t have to contend with unease…

Or think again—

About—rent

Or necessities,

Or
 all the man-made illusions…

Of how I am measured,

To who I owing…?

For this life I’ve endeavored—

And why must I,

Show I am worthy—

Of standing at this edge…

And yearning–

For all the details of which,

I’ve been thrust into learning…