Without a doubt I do not have the time
To write right now
Without a doubt I should be cooking;
And
Without a doubt
I do not want to share the things I want to write down Anyhow
I’ve got some other things to do, you know
I’ve got people coming over
I must woo them and wow them with wonder of my home
I must take them through my threshold
And make sure they feel the love
But without a doubt
I’m sitting here, doubtless, it is true,
Writing down these words as rapidly as my fingers can pass them
As quickly as my brain can spin the sentences
Quicker, in fact
I hardly stop for punctuation
Why?!
Well, because, you know, it’s true, and also
That
And here I sit and earlier there were these plants
HUGE plants, in big pots and cement troughs, and if you looked you could see koi swimming in a little pond as if to say
This is not just a research place
People are thinking about beauty here as well
And so was I, but mostly, when nobody was looking and
I thought I could get away with it
I stuck my nose waaaaaaaay down
into the pot of some big green thing
So close that I could see the tiny little individuations on the moss
Like such impossibly small fresh sweet green leaves
But I bet they aren’t called leaves
There’s a better word for that
My glasses fogged and unfogged and I wandered and returned
To my own moss, less sweet, less fresh, but more beloved
And to my own good home with it’s strong threshold and my stove
And now that I have run right out of time, right through whatever buffer I had left myself
I shall get up
And make broccoli soup
(little arms, you know, little arms)
And love
And love
And love