Sometimes, Always, Never
Repeat this to remember how
to decipher the buttons on a jacket:
sometimes, always, never.
Do up that middle button, quick,
and get your hands off the last one.
Didn’t you hear yourself.
Existence is mighty confusing.
The rules help. A bit. I before E,
we chant, except for the times
when I does not fall before E.
Rules electrify the exceptions,
the experiences that slip between
what we expect and what arises.
Man walking down the street
with a lady stands nearest to the road,
but what if there are two ladies,
or none. Two men. One man
and three ladies. And why, too,
what protection does this offer
women. Liquor before beer,
or the reverse. Red sky at night, then what,
the morning. Count the seconds
after the lightning. Listen as
your numbers call forth the thunder.