It’s all poetry
Everything you see is poetry
When I’m writing a poem
& Shizumi comes in the room and interrupts me....
Some poets would get mad, but
It’s all poetry
When I’m writing a poem
& a mosquito lands on my nose....
It’s all poetry
People have to understand
That we’re in the midst of Nothing
Nothing means anything
And this world’s dying
Nature is dying
& Will be dead in 100 years
If we’re around in 100 years
(Which I doubt
Because man’s nature is to destroy himself...
Just look at the ground—it’s paved
& The sky—it’s clouded over with chemicals
& Those mountains...
We need so much to control
To our detriment...)
But we’re in the midst of Nothing
& Death is always with us
We could die at any time
(I could die right now...)
& People don’t want to admit it
& God, if there’s an immortal God
Why would he have to do with us?
For his amusement? We were created
For amusement?
No, there’s Nothing
There’s never been anything
But that makes it all the more precious & wonderful
But my poetry, what I say is
So people know this. I say it
From the midst of the Immediate
I speak it from there
That everything is the most beautiful poem
& Look around you
Just look & you’ll see it
Even when I’m not writing it
It’s how I say it
& Make it as I say it
Like now...look
Beautiful...beautiful....
That it is.
Bondo-cho, Kyoto, 3:30 P.M.
12/27/2001.
