Why do the best poems I’ve written seem to flow too quickly through my mind to record like undulating passages that wind through silent streets of photogenic structures and lure the beast between fully suckling breasts and wanting waves of wind blowing like water through broken glass on a midsummer night and run run run like a run-on sentence that seems to make no sense to anyone but me! I have to wonder what you’re thinking now and then when I run away with your thoughts and dance in your mind with the imagery that only I can really see from here. There is no structure in the absence of relative thought no absence of abstract in the attic where I store my thoughts and no question that you and me are free to see whatever it is that this thing might be! Let’s wander aimlessly through the corridors of someone else’s mind in a time when they are most in need of companions that they really cannot see but feel with little effort when we’re there to pat them on the shoulder and whisper encouraging words into there minds eye. When they’ re dreaming of the past that they never enjoyed in the first place because they were too busy wishing they’d done it all right the first time as today passed away like a dying child that never saw the day when it finally learned to say, it’s very first word! Let it flow! Let it run like a river with no walls to stop it’s passion as it passes through the forest and sets green to all the trees that feed from it’s bosom and bust from pure delight at the sight that we take breathlessly onto our lungs as we gasp no grasp at a dream that goes unseen for the most of us and nothing ever seems real because the writers always steel our thoughts when we’re thinking of something witty to say but haven’ t the strength and run away to memories of what might have been if Only We Had Stayed!