|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| The obverse, obscure, and the obstruction
Really can't turn back now after so long -- back to where? Back to front. You and me
we've
grown up in a straight line like walking up a city street never looking
into the alleyways. After reaching the end of a street, who can't turn
the corner and walk some more, and more around other corners and
afterwards who finds their way back?
What can anybody believe in
that someone had not first pretended, and afterwards didn't leave the
faithful disillusioned and the faithless with dulled regret?
What
can I say to a girl carelessly beautiful and spartan with affection
that could make her stay, head thrown back and hair undulating as I
kiss the salt off her neck? A thousand ways to break a heart in this
country.
| | |
| Metal bowlThe silence lies underneath the river and
makes her curious. I am telling her about good,
about the possible and mysterious and it
is an endless song.
From here to end of the hallway is
an empty space that says: 'feed me'. The heart
it lies, reclining in the foyer spitting cherry pips
into a metal bowl.
A sound comes from inside the city and it
is a low drone, the sound of wealth and company.
| | |
| I forgot to tell the truthWhen did we all become so scared? And, when did I stop listening?
| | |
| Let me open the window and let you inAnd now begins the mundane archival of my life, a bloody mess distilled into a tangy syrup. What's your flavor? Tell me what's your flavor. Alas, I've lost all sense of smell and taste, and everything you say I will fling it at the wall. There it goes out the window.
Tonight it is quiet and the street below is still and filled with fog. I can think and the thoughts will stay in this room. Please let me talk; listen to the words and discard their meanings so that they become just sounds, empty shells of a broken story. Now fill them with your own so that you know nothing more than what you already had.
| | |
|
