I think myself thinking the thing

I think myself thinking the thing
in white, baby blue or orange.
A serene style of living escapes me
repeatedly but I keep trying.
I try to be austere but it just comes
across as loving the look of things submerged.
A feeling that I should be making decisions
which leads to the illusion of the decay
of my work. I want you to count all the words
I say in a day. Hanging on every word
or hanging. Numbers as shapes or colors.
The rent check is purple. A bee smashed
on the bedspread-that's just a mess.
A better way to illustrate the good life
is with a hammer. Oh opal sky
and elegant plastic dust on all the tree branches
Oh people of this city I am unstoppable
and I will wave to you from across the street
with these super things in mind: delicacy
is vain, super friends can make out your body,
good things come for people who wait
while using their time constructively.
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