I would wish to fall in drops,

I would wish to fall in drops,
for this is when it falls in drops,
and drops, in drops, and dies inside of me.
And dies inside, printed on the page,
and the book decays scatters through the gray,
mulches in the muddled earth with bugs and worms,
leaves and twigs and sticks and stones;
above is the ivy and below's the dinosaur bones.
And this is when you hold - your coffee cup,
your face stretched out - from near above.
This is when the tea ceremony begins,
teetering your grasping feet and really
don't want to be stuck in the muddies,
though outside among - living things,
like the tall growth of seeds
to the trees and ivy.

Started while residing on McBride St. in Syracuse, NY, 1991, aged 23 or 24. 

This poem was first composed on the same flat roof mentioned in the notes for “GREEN CANOPY” which is sort of an intro/companion poem for it.