I Write....

i write... what is given me to write, with all consuming fire, burning every branch of self. i doubt all... and therefore believe, touching the untouchables, with reverence and awe. i chant... with dirty hands plowing, urine drenched eyes searching, living beneath all thought. i mourn... hearing the lament of dead bodies, doubled over with hunger, no place to lay my head. i burn... with uncontrolled passion, for the leaf, for the river, and the prayers of small children. i run... just a dog among dogs, barking and baying, with the scent of raw life. i love... with hot breath panting, with both candle and phallus, the whisper of tender touch. i fly... beyond body and bondage, beyond concrete and ashes, dark wings seeking light. i howl... with pen and paper, with human words scratching, at the walls of the tomb!