{lines composed for a specific person, and no one else} michael bazzett If you’re not certain I must ask you to please withdraw. If you are then you’re reading these lines, at least. That’s something, if temporary. I want to stress I’m not always here either. In fact, given the usual terms of poetic exchange, I’m no doubt elsewhere as we speak. Or don’t speak. I might as well be mending my gate latch again wishing I hadn’t used screws of such a narrow gauge. More likely, I’m sleeping. Though the odds are slim I hope I’m listening to Art Tatum, as I am now on this astonishingly tactile sun-dappled May morning where I dropped everything and came to the table to capture the permanent state of this passing, this now, this now, this now. After which I will use my lasso to rope some clouds. |