Poetry

I was very restless today
somebody had overplayed the hand
to grab the absolute.
Light was searching the earth
and earth was moving inside me.

I wanted to pack up and go
to meet the truth.
The lips had left their print
on the empty cups.
The ragpicker was waiting.

My toes had met the brutal stones
of godhood. I was puzzled by new
methodology to make man free.
As the grass grows through the carcass
a cataract is trumpeting blind.

I was afraid of the huge web.
The spider was nowhere in sight.