Win Some, Lose Some
Every poem both fails and succeeds
That is the nature of the business;
These reckless attempts
To capture the flash of now
As a series of changeless things.
It would be a mistake
To consider it ossified,
Fossilized in sandstone
Someone stumbles upon
In a road cut while broken down
On the freeway to whatever happens
Just before you get to Enlightenment.
It moves as you move.
If you allow it, it will follow
You wherever you go
Like a dead religion haunting
Its living, breathing god
9/17/26
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