I send out daily bites
like nourishment for souls
is this generosity?
sharp insights that come from moments
freshly squeezed – the sap of thoughts
that flounder if they are not transmitted
my throwing out of the fishes and loaves
is the displacement of all that is mine
just moments, my fractions
are they gifts?
these little things that mean a lot to me
harboured in neutrality
go children go, for it pleases me to watch
my atomic vanity discharged
simpering and hoping for traction
and wishing above all to be absolved
is this guilt?
for the smallness that haunts
can taunt me in an ironic way
because I know too much about irrelevance