I've started reading a new poetry book called "Angel Hair Anthologies." I bought it for my friends birthday, but maybe I'll keep it. I really like Wonderful Things, by Ron Padgett.

Anne, who are dead and whom I love in a rather asinine fashion
I think of you often

buveur de l'opium chaste et doux
Yes I think of you

with very little in mind

as if I had become a helpless moron

Watching zany chirping birds

That inhabit the air

And often ride our radio waves


So, I've been sleeping lately with no clothes on
The floor which is very early considering the floor
Is made of birds and they are flying and I am
Upsidedown and ain't it great to be great!!

Seriously I have this mental (smuh!) illness

Which causes me to do things

on and away

Straight for the edge
Of a manicured fingernail
Where it is deep and dark and green and silent
Where I may go at will
And sit down and tap
My forhead against the sunset

Where he takes off the uniform
And we see he is God

God get out of here

And he runs of chirping and chuckling into his hand

And that is a wonderful thing

...a tuba that is meadowful of bluebells

is a wonderful thing

and that's what I want to do

Tell you wonderful things



I love the image of God running and chuckling into his hand.