As I
try to write burst on burst about
the ball,

But first
want to consult the Oracle, a broken
habit.

As I
try to find loose change, pennies to toss, “Wrong language,”
he says,

But first
he says “Read 5 poems you do
not know.”

As I
remembered it, thunder on thunder mixes
it up,

But first, 
before the word for sphere
or ball,

As I
lay on a pre-poetics blue blanket
eye caught,
But first,
translucent-round-sparkles, no language and
not me!

As I
pre-verbal laughter, object on subject for
first time.