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The Creative Act

Here’s how to do it.
Realize you’re alive.
Go out and screw it.
Fall on your ass and survive!

Then look at the weather.
You should have worn a coat.
Pull yourself together.
Speak through your throat.

Next grab your tongue
Roll it way out.
It’s a slippery one.
Still grab it and shout

you’ve seen the second coming.
You’re a living god with brains.
And every thing is drumming
from cells to windowpanes.

And you open up and see us
all dancing in a row
as daffodil and cactus
deep in a summer snow.

Then think you’re somebody
till all your dying days
gather up with nobody
and celebrate the haze.

Published in Poetry