I'm bouncing a ball against a yellow wall,
something I never do, and the ball I see,
as I'm caught in the thrall of the sunny wall
is a blue and white basketball.
We set up art with a tricky bounce
like the sun just right off the yellow wall
bouncing me back this Rothko ball,
in thought-out fields of white and blue..
not long from the north, I'm not sure what I can be or do.
O pleasure, you blow me up. I want this time never to end.
Fake me, love me help me suspend
the nature of things, the nature of things.