You   and I don't mean me   this
isn't
           one of those poems
where you know           the guy

says you   and means   me or I


would cream to mean EVERYONE
(a good portion
                     would be rewarding)

BRAK

now the thing the thing

(good word
 Wallace, sit
  up and thing)

                       I said thing
and thingly tho not thingamabob
too Americana yet
there is no soul but in New England
which is neither

which the parts of which we can't control
rock n debris round tracks
resignation of wisdom
(not to - of)
naming water
(Kerouac in Big Sur?)

h                aunts us into turning to logos
both in        our personal and spiritual

yeah yeah yeah

but the thing of it

                          (sophisticated hobble)


is   the thing has nothing to do with
            waves and particles
             wants not to do
              wants at least

always has more to do
with me than you

for a few eastwesstnorthsouth

bops to the corner

                        daisies
                        through
                        cracked
                        pavement

hat in hand


You sing along.