Truth is,
I like the words that
I don't write down,
forget to write down,
for one reason or another,
will never write down


I like the words that have never been set in
newspapers, literature, magazines,
propaganda pamphlets, film scripts, translations,
encyclopedias and self-help books.

I like the random words that don't make sense.
I like the amateur words that will never get paid.
I like the gibberish words my niece mumbles
as she grabs for my nose and


I'm in love
with the snowflakes of words
I'm too lazy and too slow
to catch; they evaporate
just as they hit the ground

I have a grudging respect
for the syllables that laugh
at my vanity when I sit
at this computer,
ignoring the ringing phone
while trying to recall them
hours later.

I can only gaze
at the words that

swim in circles,
float in schools,
dive so freely
over my head
as I lay in bed

for that one last moment
before rising to face
another day
in a world
that has

a serious word
for just about
and everyone,

every action
and inaction
that goes on
or will go on

I like the words best
that are just there
for no reason at all,
and with no other purpose
but to amuse me

in that

between awake
and dream.

Los Angeles - 3/16/06