some crazy

skinny guy rides around with headphones on, and the differing dogs and the manners, and the scanners and belts and sliding doors of the mind, conjecture and reason
the keys of mostly flea-bitten swords
deleterious mechanisma
all of the key and the mostly
natural and unnamed parting
among the daffodils and natural looks
the ideas of the inward eye
with the moments in the wash of the sea
the tides and the lengthening
the manner of who might come
into what might be the only real lever.

People stroll by the cafe and I think of that Wordsworth poem about the daffodils "fluttering and dancing in the breeze" and think how much that poem meant , or how much I first thought of it-a real different and powerful kind of language.