Sometimes I feel like dropping Down to my knees and weeping Openly, my face pressed against The dirt and fresh cut grass, but Something keeps pulling me Up, up until my feet dangle Just above the lawn and I Hang there like a newborn dog, Limp and blind in my mother’s jaw
Two small shadows left running Under branch, under street-light, Shapes traced on the white skin Of the moon, reminiscent of My father’s face in the Bathroom mirror, he shaved Each morning, hot water Running from the sink and From the shower both And me, sitting on the Toilet beside him, A falcon diving from The top of a high rise, Small meteor falling Towards unknown prey. All there ever was. The morning dew The sound of one Hundred lawnmowers Struggling to turn over A low, slow humming Resistance in Every muscle’s Sullen, sore Rising from A dream
What will not haunt No house, no car No breakfast bowl Cereal, two coffee cup Almond milk, check Engine light, nausea, ‘I have not been here’ Or, ‘I have not been home’, whose book Is that you’re reading Today, on the train At the bus stop, or On your lunch break Do you remember Watching the Columbia Shuttle Disaster on TV? Do you remember what You did the night of The Sikh Temple Shooting? Man with gun, White t-shirt. What will not haunt No house, yet You wake up early Before the sunrise, In a cold sweat, Anxious, there is no Button to press, No pill that will Slow your heartbeat This way, there is Nothing left To reach for
My grandmother is Dying, my grandfather Is dying too, and the Cat is dying, there Is love inside each House and in every Room and every Chamber of your Heart that the Light touches, You have a dream Where you are Answering phones for A large corporation, You never learn the Name or what they do, And you don’t know why People are calling, but You answer, every time And every time there is Only the faint sound of An older lady weeping You want to comfort Her but you don’t Know what to say And you don’t know What’s wrong, or Why she’s calling you So instead you think To put her on hold, Just for a moment, Just long enough To get some answers But there is no button To press, and no-one You can find To help you
I am in love and It shows, I don’t Want it to ever end. My eyes light up like A truck stop burning My eyes light up like An ambulance on fire We throw rocks at The ant hill in the yard We take a flying fuck At the moon
Josh died three times That night in Midtown, First at the bar, again In his room, and finally When his body hit The street I was waiting for a Table at a sub-par Mexican restaurant When I got the call. The church says the Glow around a dying Man is pink, but the Bartender said it was Closer to blue, and I think I believe her Blue is the color of Love, sadness, longing, But also of cool water Touched by wind and Bloodless skies after A night of lightning and Rain, blue is the Color of solitude Following the long Quick fall out of Love with someone Who hurt you Blue is not loneliness Just as solitude is Not loneliness, I don’t know how He felt that night, Lonely or haunted In the Four Seasons bar They’ll remember him In flowers and Instagram captions, I’ll see his face in Bare branched Sycamore trees
I’ve run out of money Again, and it’s a Reminder, I guess, Of how very badly I need to get up from My place in the Sun and sweep the floor Vacuum the car Wash the dishes in The kitchen too I met Nick in California, only Once, before they took Down Hansa, He was Very kind, though His arms blistered in The hot, ugly sun, I saw, a few months After that, someone looking For him online – claiming to be An ex lover, but most likely Something different – we are Very rarely what we say we are – I hope, if he wants to be Found, that they find him And if he doesn’t, I hope They search the whole World twice over without Seeing even a shadow of His roadmap flesh
In my dream, I am Sitting on the edge Of a small, wooden Boat rocking along The gentle waves of Lake Michigan again, Like I am only thirteen No cellphone, no hunger No desires at all besides For the day to never end I don’t want to have to Row to shore – I can Barely see itTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
