there are lofty things in my life

like writing and thinking

when i write and think i am using the smart parts of my brain—and i am even using the deep and wide parts (like my subconscious) to produce writing that is art and thoughts that are artful in form and content

those are lofty parts of my mind

but then there are little parts of my mind—the parts engaged in small talk—and these parts seem to preclude my using the smart parts of my brain

these small parts do not want my intelligence—they do not want me to say the smart or the right or definitely not the wise thing

so there is the lofty and the little

and both are part of me

the lofty wants to explain perfectly

the little gets by with quickness thats hardly accurate (for a person who craves authenticity)

the lofty wishes for deeper connection—the lofty wishes he could say more

the little (when asked what he does) says im on disability

the lofty (inside) says i write books and i have ideas i would like to share with you but i cant—i cant (with you) in this lifetime—so youre just not going to know the real me and im just not going to know the real you

the lofty me thinks my ideas are on display for everyone to see (that everyone knows what im thinking)

the little me knows that all you ever see is what i show you and there isnt time and there isnt care in the world for everyone to know (im a writer !!)

there isnt interest enough (in me—in you) for me to be able to share this wonderful fact !!

because in this little world all were concerned about is paying rent and arguing over politics—not love and creation

those are lofty things

love and creation

meant by this crowd to be hidden under beds and tucked behind doors—done in spare time and hushed about (irrelevant)

thats the fate of lofty things here

never to be spoken about (in favor of the little)