I want to find the words
. I have to .
dig them up from within
from the pages of a dictionary
from remembrances of
learning and of experience
from somewhere; any where.
And then I must make
string up word beads;
make them fast and furious
or the moment will pass;
wind them around your insouciance
splutter sentiment out of steel.
Flat shriveled balloons of words
that will jump to life under your gaze.
Your scorn, like flying fingers flying on rosaries;
Only your scorn will give them the plump of breath.