I am the Wild mechanics in the ways you move, she says, Where only my voiceless sunlight resides, The echoing wind in its rays.
Where have all the sidewalks Gone when the crevice flower cries?
Oh Charlie Parker, we love you Forever the Steppenwolf, Suspended, like some ancient fly In amber. Now only laughter Where there was once only pain. A ghost of a world passes On around you, long after you Shed those early autumn’s Years, to laugh at last.
Even when Rimbaud was Alone, we knew each other...