South Bend to Chicago-- A sun-like poem

Here are the highlights of my train ride from South Bend to Chicago this afternoon:

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5-- I scribbled down the first draft of a poem that for now I believe is going to be the center poem radiating through my 2nd collection. (a sunlike poem lighting both ways out of the center, through the entire book, while, at the same time, like a black hole, the universe's end-cunt, sucking everthing into its greedy dark and nothing center.) This is good news, if it pans out. (and not so bad if it doesn't). Several times since Holy Land I've sat down and tried to get a 2nd full-length manuscript into play. And each time it's miscarried. Not enough water and light. No real passion, juice, semen, blood, whatever. But, today, on this God-forsaken train ride (I could type the word Bleak about 7 thousand times here and that wouldn't come close) I was making my own God (more like Goddess really) and I was believing. I'm a bit sceptical now. But, it's good to believe. And so I keep spinning that sun inside me. And I am spinning too. Drawing in light all of it. Hoarding it. And erupting it all, finally. Horribly. And maybe. Maybe.

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