we must, and converge we will
rising might be a big if
what you say is true, then, you
are as final as any destination
can be, as tiring as any trip
must, lagging in the jet stream
of consciousness, of arrival
at long last the field is level
the gathering is slow, but steady
i choose the person
the body that disturbs
the cliched case of life
imitating art imitating life
a certain swagger come and gone
but there must be stakes, obsession
a sense of the now, deliberate
and urgent, that fierce indignation
well, i'm afraid there is
nowhere else but you
in dreams, on stage
and off
