I’ve been rotting for you. I’ve seen
Shadows dance beyond my hallowed
Lids, heard the paper of the world
Begin to open.
In December I forget how
Visions heal a man, then remember.
On the third day of silence my true
Love gave to me a basket woven
From hollow thoughts, and I thought
About sending it back. I’m rotting and
Plotting and plodding, writing poems
To project poise and
Maybe hilarious. I’m trotting out fits
Of noise and lighting candles with
The tone of my voice. My hands
Conspire to give salute to the giver
Of fire, and I nod, and they do. In
December you weave shadows of
Poise. You write
Silence. You give true
Light, sending visions, healing my
Paper hands. I remember the third
Love, and, plodding, begin back.
The above poem also inspired the following Le Prof track on my album ‘Aleatoria:’