The Strongest of the strange

The Strongest of the Strange

you won’t see them often
for wherever the crowd is they are not.
those odd ones, not many but from them
come the few good paintings the few
good symphonies the few good books
and other works.
and from the best of the strange ones
perhaps nothing.
they are their own paintings their own books their own music their own work.
sometimes I think I see them– say
a certain old man sitting on a certain bench
in a certain way or a quick face going the other way in a passing automobile or
there’s a certain motion o p f the hands of a bag—boy or a bag—girl while packing
supermarket groceries.

sometimes it is even somebody you have been living with for some time—you will notice a lightning quick glance never seen
from them before.
sometimes you will only note their existance suddenly in vivid recall
some months some years after they are
gone.
I remember such a one—he was about
20 years old drunk at 10 a.m.
staring into a cracked New Orleans mirror
facing dreaming against the walls of the world where did I go?