valentine's day

..paper- boats
.. of desires or thoughts..
for some strange reason..
lose their way again

into unknown bermuda triangles

and i do feel tempted
to reverberate with
another lifeform's 'whim',
volatility or "restlessness"

or even to simply
{ape,borrow,or plagiarize it}
.. and celebrate its' resistance to being
caged..
in a specific "art form"..

obviously because
it overlays sanity
with impressions and epithets
verging upon the "dangerous"

and thereby glean across
those periods of history
from mayan hairstyles
to anti dandruff cranky tag lines

in the smallest imaginable
measurement of time

and then, consequently,
opt to volunteer
to breakthrough
into an .. illusion..
on a borrowed trojan horse..
and..

decide to revel
in the imagery
of "clay and paint"..
that always deserved to be manifest
on the covers of elitist art magazines

as also, in the discipline
of "string and dance"..
pitted against patience and time,
and in any demographic predicament..
also against..space..

and watch my own thoughts slip by..
..like a filmstrip,
as someone performs to a bonfire,
in the solitary wilderness
of the moon..

..tomorrow is valentine's day..
but why not ask somebody ,
if tomorrow ever comes?//original//z.g.