maybe tomorrow

[saw]

eleven poems ago
I was paralyzed
now I am able to speak
and number twelve is part of a series
a dozen new ideas
added to the cookbook
seasonings
from a restless mind
what is a man to do
when a quiet voice
barely audible in the traffic
of universal time. barely a blip
on seismic boulevards speaks,
a wee peep is heard in the cranial din
sounds from a flightless bird
an avian zombie that looks like me
looking in a mirror at our family resemblance
and I understand bird language
and he tells me this is the last poem
of all time,
or at least
until tomorrow
oh brother where were you
those nights of abject silence
when I knew nothing of you
and I sat posed for greatness
and mankind had let me down
dino always told me
you can trust in a kiwi

[the mingo]

I knew a kiwi girl. New Zealand, ' 77 -

Enjoyed, saw -

[Arcadia]

Dino was a great advisor too, yeah!

[mnaz]

Kiwi ! O Kiwi of flightless Zen. I loved those poems..

[saw]

The Tao of the Kiwi
lives on in dino's poetry,
in his wit and wisdom

[mtmynd]

Your words easily become pictures of our foibles and recognition of them.

Three reading of this and maybe tomorrow but yet another... the Key to We.