time and words i leave behind

an excellent idea.



i don't remember words or when they came to me
I know the smell of a library and the touch of paper

i remember a blob on my algebra folder
this was before the Cistercians in a folded corner
it was just a spill that looked like a soldier in his great coat
words found me

now words are what i punch on a screen
instead of trying to prove to someone else that i know what the hell i am talking about
check that
yeah i got that paper to do on that too, meetings
still going before the committee of judges
instead of money or was it grades or was it time

i was a junkman selling your cars
washing your windows
and shining your stars Neil Young

when i said to the man from Saltillo
whose grandmother ate chicken feet that scared him
that the history of his country was like a big, loud fiesta
he knew i was right and he nodded
i remembered that it was all a tapestry
just a thread, a tiny braid in time
that tree is far older than I will ever be

if all i have left is the words that i leave behind
if all i have is the children that grow and know
then some part of me is still being ornery and hard headed
somewhere I am laughing