Language is Love ala Mr. Blaser

here's an andrew k. peterson poem from bimbo jim, 2oo7:

For Travis #2

You there, or me here, or
You and me here, or there, you

Hear me, you or there
Here's me, there. Or you

Or me, or here, or there
Or you here, me, there

You and me, here or
There, where we are there's good


and here's me a week ago unconscious of (or selectively not remembering) the peterson poem i had read and loved just months previous:


I'm here. Right here. In my blue shirt. I can see
you. Your eyes. I'm right here. Here. Your
eyes. Your eyes. You there. Me here.
A moment. Your eyes. Right here. A moment.
I'm here. I'm here with my blue shirt. My eyes.
My, I'm thinking of you. There. You. There
I'm thinking. Here in my blue shirt.



...is('nt) this theft?...is('nt) this language reeking its havoc?...is('nt) it a kind of love?