I am going to write, someday, the longest poem in the world.
Intricate, wonderful, precise
Flowing as a river flows
Flying as a bird
Singing, singing, and so entirely true
It will melt the heart
And make us all love one another,
Sit in the sun,
Laugh and watch the babies crawl through the soft grass
Making a happy noise.
It will be the longest poem in the world
And for days now I have been hearing it all at once
From beginning to end, all at once.
The words shining and flashing,
The furred words and the quiet mouselike words
The round words and the square words
Orange and green and pale yellow,
Sliding over each other
Kisssing each other on the forehead
Rubbing under the hand like a puppy.
In my head a storehouse of words
And all of them nice.
All of them about love
And buttered rolls
And my girl.
It must be a nice world
For those who can, period.
Who can do it
Know it without asking why
Or how to hold it.
But I could never be it
Or do it
Or have it
I can only say it.
And I will keep on saying it
That will be the longest poem in the world.