mr bojangles


earthquakes shaking

the lands

desert trees

quivering singing

mr bojangles so calm

inside while the world

is breaking

all around falling


but not here

two guitars and a violin

a dog

called pretty and flowers

on the table like a scene

from a movie

door’s voice touching

my soul so deep


i’ve been reborn

again today

my skin is still hot

my body

still rocking

i’m in a dream

a dream

in the desert where

many have walked

in my body nude

on this rock

in the sun this

desert feeds my soul

what a magical place

it is

i think we can change

the world

with our love

sit down and listen.

In the garden of mystic lovers
these are not true distinctions.
There’s part of us
that’s like an itch
call it the animal soul
a foolishness
that when we’re in it
we make hundreds of others
around us
there is an intelligent soul
with another desire
more like sweet basil
or the feel of a breeze
and be thankful
even for scolding
that comes from the intelligent soul
it flows out closer to where you
flowed out
but that itchiness
wants to put food in our mouths
that will make us sick
feverish with the aftertaste
of kissing a donkey’s rump
it’s like blackening your robe
against the kettle
without being
anywhere near
a table of companionship
the truth of being human
is an empty table
made of soul intelligence
reduce what you give
your animal soul
the bread
that after all
from sunlight
the animal soul itself spilled out
and sprouted from the other
taste more often
what nourishes
your clear light
and you’ll  have less use for the smokey oven
you’ll bury that baking equipment
in the ground