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Sunday, February 19, 2012

The Pleasures of Zero

Contemplate for a moment
the pleasures of zero,
in a strange uneasy pause
from your important life.

Belly button fuzz, dust mice,
stale chips in wrapper,
and long lost keys,
in furry fresco
under your couch.

Strange modern art forms,
swept nose wrinkled,
balls to bone
to the wastecan,
unrecorded for posterity.

Across the planet is a woman,
picking over dumpsters,
her favorite flowers
plucked from gravestones
wilting on her table.

Across the ocean
an anonymous man,
sleeps under papers and box
snoring a lullaby
for some subway train;

No deadline to mortgage,
or rolaids for lunch,
the quality of causality
light years and eons
to yours.

How does it strike you, friend?