Feel free to suffer this...

> Initial Meditation on the B
>
> "Being is not bad"--St Thomas Aquinas
>
> "Be-ing is not bad"--postmodern gloss on Aquinas
>
> "B-ing is not bad"--as old Dada used to say
>
> I can play the first scale on my quena
> (No, not the B)
> And daydream about the altiplano,
> Llama herds, balsa rafts on blue Titicaca,
> Flute-maddened dances in bright woolens,
> Breathing hard up that high...
>
> I don't even have a horsehead fiddle
> Yet the Eternal Blue Sky of the Mongols
> Is ever uppermost in my mind,
> (Well, it has to be somewhere)
>
> But, damn, isn't to live on Avenue B
> In Austin, Texas
> To someone, somewhere, some way, somewhen
> Really rather exotic-purple-macaw-Shangri-la and all that?
   (And a word of praise for the paradox of hypens-they join even as they
> divide)
> And be at least as odd there as the missed ontologies with which I tease
> myself here
   On Avenue B as I think of Genghis Khan standing in front of his ger
   on the faraway steppes, on some hillock analog to my Avenue B,
   Watching the sun rise in the east. 
 
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