At the Front Desk
I don't want to talk with anybody.
I'll check in with the cook instead
or tickle an angel's nose in passing
backwards over the water I walked
blindfolded in my last reincarnation.
There are so many bodies to be,
so many places to be a body in.
I don't know if I want a body again.
I think this time I'll move around.
Be a nose full of itchy air or laughing
gas or the sound a horn makes in
the middle of a group of people for
no observable reason at all. I want
it to be fun. I want to be surprised.
I want to be a storm pouring into
town, giving you my lecture two
or three times a year.
Scott Malby
Publicado em 10 de Janeiro de 2006