Category Archives: Poetry

the extemporaneous life is for me
cheffery without recipe
foresight without visions
imaginations without images

always defined by what it is not
because that's what language must do
but when the limits are breached
and words rest on the bench
and life in practice unfolds

as a matter of feeling, at the finger tips
in real time; it's a dilation
a widening of the eyes
a forgetting to see
the unfolding as opposed
to the neatest drawer
without a mess
because that's a definition