The Mistake Of Culture Is That No One Has Anything New To Say

We forgot what is new to say
Forgot what new
Is we are forgetting
together Is every time we speak

We want new, and we let it
Be known, not new

Shape makers, making shapes
Alone in studios filled with empty shapes and scraps

New makes us
We neka mew

Easy to say.
Harder to do.


The key slips,
We asked for a new one.
Small indiscretions
are forgiven.

First Day Of School

Kid burning paper
In the station
At the far end
of the Hoyt-Schermerhorn stop

The smell is innocent
Smoke behind a pillar— mysterious
He is giving
A ritual