Try It. It Is Good. Poem by RIC BASTASA

the room can be
another prison for one

who remains a bud
tight as a cork to the
bottle

necked, and undecided
to open up into

a complete flower, for
years, this is going on

and on and on
but there is no worry now

one gets attuned to the
sound of loneliness which

has become another nice
music over this radio

this room, has become
one radio, one lasting music

for a self loving self unto
this self, his individual

feudal upon itself, delving
into the wholeness of one's

independence. Try it.
it is good.