by A.R. Ammons
I’m stuck with the infinity thing
again this morning: a skinny
inexpressible syrup, finer than light,
everywhere present: the cobweb becoming
visible with dust and the tumblelint
stalled in the corner seem worthy
An unofficial, eclectic, mostly tangential, view of aspiring devotee life.
Best viewed with Sense of Humor 8.0 or higher.
Cows may come, cows may go, but the bull is always here.