Satisfied?
Mr. President, are you satisfied with your life? What’s missing?
:- Doug.
It seems an irony that someone not talking can find friends so readily as John Francis does. Yet: words might not be necessary: Share a laugh—or tears.
:- Doug.
Conversation has become my way to slow in life, so as to take in beauty on the way.
:- Doug.
Silks of rain blown by the wind
except nothing from skies
and wind only of spirit:
Dancing labyrinths of scents,
sounds, seasonings, and texture
:- Doug.
Each grandchild is precious. The more you have, the less earth for each. Please don’t have so many!
:- Doug.
Can you say the thing without using visual referents, while staying concrete?
:- Doug.
It is necessary, this requires, I drop my attitude of holding up a shield. I am about to be filleted. No longer will I swim and cavort, I am going to be food.
:- Doug.
Shaping my fingers now
tingling, prickling, itching, taunting
a poem, unsought
:- Doug.
But I don’t want to talk or write about duty, rather of attraction and desire.
:- Doug.
Once we bring one up from waters to personhood, we have responsibility to become ourselves made of them.
:- Doug.
Can we ever engage the whole person? Or does it only feel to one or both as the entire? What is “consuming?”
:- Doug.
Have you ever approached an instant conversation as a landscape to paint?
:- Doug.