I spend my leisure listening to imaginary music,
writing love letters to hypothetical women
upon whose lips and laps I erected structures of words of desire,
just for the sake of love and laughter and lies;
for the sake of spending leisure before I retire!
At times, I spend leisure reading a bad poem
or autobiographies of thieves, drug lords and corrupt souls:
“From zig to zag…the Rise of Mr. Zigzag”,
flawlessly done in a straight line…
and such are these times!
Sometimes, I spend my leisure sipping wet air in evening breeze,
‘cause wet air bolsters my mind to the point I feel no freeze.
When there’s ne’er time for leisure, I spend it in the bed of thought late in the night
conversing with my blankets and my bugs
It’s such times that my bed plays the role of a tree,
what it used to be, or perhaps still is;
and we sway in our own wind in a deep forest
that was a while ago but a lonely tiny bedroom.
In my leisure at times, I think of people;
lots of them; beautiful, ugly, sweet, sour,
serene, noisy, great, tiny. goons. derelicts.
obsolete men. antediluvian…obsessed with my foreskin.
vicious souls in virtuous bodies.
millions of strange faces encountered on streets
flashing in my memory in hushed movements recorded by a busy brain
I just think of people…
all lost and found in a leisurely mental walk
on a cold night when the moon is in a grey sweater
wishing so painfully she were the sun!