Abandoning the Solid

The wall is where we start.
From there we can't resist departing
and abandoning the solid. We touch
and it is touching myself.

I let the ocean fall from my hands as rain.
At such times I almost know generosity.
I almost fathom the infinity of
your patience,
letting each foot fall in its print
and each head loll in its sleep.

This is the language I read in dream billboards--
the city of poetic highrises
where words are building the sky
as a slightly unfinished sentence.
I read it
for as long as I can leave off understanding it
as what I want.

What does it mean?

I'm still afraid enough to ask that.



by jerry gordon