What is a spirit? Does it come when memories say so? And drink to the_?. Can you see it? In performance? A dream? The face of the past? When does it come? The next part— Is there something more? —spirit rained down soaked everyone And we laughed— Because we knew. The spirit sells: The truth A rhythm And a good time. That’s how we sell it: You don’t know what you’re buying, Until you take it home And see What fits, Where it fits, And how it all hangs together when you Stop. Sometimes, when the spirit hits You need to go outside and —Breathe— Take it all in, And see What everyone is Living. Are they living for love? Are they living for knowledge? — Are they living? “To live for fun: be smart And practice love.” Shit, The spirit’s copyeditors are the best in the Book... Maybe I’ll sign up for a Free Trial.
Subscribe for poems and interesting reads.