‘NO VISITORS’ I thumb the roller to

and leans against the door.

Comfortable in my horseblanket

I prop on the costly bed & dream of my wife,

my first wife,

and my second wife & my son.

Insulting, they put guardrails up,

as if it were a crib!

I growl at the head nurse; we compose on one.

I have been operating from nothing,

like a dog after its tail

more slowly, losing altitude.

Nitid. They are shooting me full of sings.

I give no rules. Write as short as you can,

in order, of what matters.

I think of my beloved poet

Issa & his father who

sat down on the grass and took leave of each other.