An absent line


A listless number of works begun swell
and flow deeply across my desktop
all beautiful to my eye
yet still lacking that essential
element - no revelation forthcoming
are hollow

at times one may be
without this core of the cohesive
cannot form the systemic structure
necessary to engage the mind
- for intellect, for anything
important -


yet I forgive my
half-finished lines
their weary pronounciation
and dumb statement
enmeshed in two dimensions


for I too on occasion
am like that -
lines of text,
with no visible passion.


I then remember that the search goes on
to find the lines, that give rise to structure
form and from that to...







to what words and unknown lines I cannot say

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