Feel everything as hard as I can
Be as low as can be
Feel so beneath the moon that my legs make it to the other side of the world
And move through space as fast as time will let me
O Mother, even a dullard becomes a poet who meditates upon thee raimented with space, three-eyed, creatrix of the three worlds, whose waist is beautiful with a girdle made of numbers of dead men’s arms…
My child, you need not know much in order to please me.
Only love me dearly.
Speak to me, as you would talk to your mother,
if she had taken you in her arms.
but not take love.