randon DAYS POEM excerpt

philosophic kindred roll mild rocks over roadways stretching imaginative loggerheads for the matter of study. noodling on capricious keyboard, which resounds, bumping maximum with blithe whimsy, steely kisses from a wrenching moment and then some. how language holds still, with its alerts aligned and the matter craning for attention. this is no cloister or if the snow melts, if that damn groundhog from foreign clime, if the garden seed catalogue, and if there is time, or so we say. we work hard at trying to find. any sentence can be finished.--Days Poem, vol. 2, sec. 222, p 5