Is there an idea
is there a soundtrack
Is there a path
Is there a good idea
Is there anything besides me
turning circles like a trained monkey
a capuchin I think
The ones with the black caps sketched in dark fur atop their poor empty little heads
because these monkeys grinding these organs — they don’t know shit
Anyway
leaving the capped capuchins to one side,
and begging your forgiveness,
I begin to climb down the stairs
and I think as I reach the bottom
I start to notice something like
fall leaves crinkled in themselves
falling carefully sliding back and forth on the wind
on their way to underfoot
Is this my fault?
It seems to be
It feels to be
squarely on my head
What would you have me do?
What could I only do?
What should I carefully find?
What?