I have no idea
(a poem for CongRegation)
I’ve never given birth to an idea that floated
the wine I’ve drunk, the women I’ve loved,
all permeable membranes that leaked
all blocked arteries
like clods of hair in a drain.
I’ve had multiple births from embryos implanted
like seeds, into my imagination.
I’m big into cultivation, gestation, articulation
There’s an earthworm casting in my brain.
I’m here to sing a song that longs for Cong.
You can’t go wrong among the throng
where you belong
with your ideas on yellow leads and purple cows.