doodles from a boondoggle

there is a growing gulf between
who i think i was,
who i think i am,
who i'd like to be;
what a friend i was,
the friend i am, to whom,
what a friendship means.

looking at myself in a mirror
is like looking through a window
at a construct for which
action dictates thought.

there is a speeding disconnection between
why i think i love
who i love, i think;
what love promises,
what death means to me;
what love means to me,
what death promises.

inch by miniscule inch,
day by absurd day,
i push the boulder further up
along a slanted point of view.

the door is closing
on what i thought i know,
on my self i thought i knew.
the link is breaking between
what i write
and think;
why i think i write.

brussels, 2nd dec 2006


instead of paying attention to the state of
managing hazardous substances
in the world today