Striving
to keep everything alive,
secure
on Time Machine hard drives,
compact discs,
printed matter
or in various clouds,
I realize,
one brisk morning,
this to be nothing
but a neurotic Western dream

I may – also in a dream – obsess
over being an ombudsman
for one and all and everything
- but all this is a process
of change,
and I change with it,
in time, out of time

Letting go
is such a precious art,
so utterly hard to perform,
but one is performed, anyway,
back to the elements

Nonetheless,
and much to my amazement,
the organic and intellectual realization
of impermanence
does not in any way
weaken or slow
my treasured sessions
recording my old diaries,
or my ingenuity
at shaping new
and totally un-called for
acoustic and literary art works;
quite the opposite!
I throw them all in the wind
of transience,
where they rustle and glitter
for some time

It's lonely
to revise one's Facebook contacts,
but if you do it harshly,
you will outlast yourself
in the company
of the adventurous

Being mean
is sometimes a humble act

”Do not go gentle into that good night”

I scrutinize myself,
but allow me some leeway
in and out
of poems