jeudi, novembre 11, 2004

You remind me of a boy I knew


You remind me of a boy I knew
when I was nineteen
(and he was 19)
with a delicate mouth that carved
sweet words out of nothing -
I saw whole sonnets of love
in the eyes of that child
and My world shook


It breaks me this longing
this remembering that we come
from a world of love
from a better home than this one
a world of floating gods
and unrestraint
we come from a cry of joy
that melts you down
and doesn't say "I'm sorry"

I live each day
in a world of : eating lunch,
fixing shoes,
buying a pass
to get to and from work.
Boring dead everyday life
I forget magic,
I forget who I am,
I forget where I came from.


I loved that boy
for himself
for who I was
when I was with him
I never told him that
But maybe if I confess it to you -
how he arranged
my covers on the angle
or how he linked
our drinks with the wrapper
of a straw, bridging
more than our two glasses -
it will make up for
the long long years that
keep me from him,
the "why didn't I say something"s
and the dull ache
when I read his letters
all over again
heart banging
to be let out.

mercredi, novembre 10, 2004

Scribbled on the Bathroom Wall

TO: Every
one Who
wrote on

Get a
Life & Stop

other's property!!


jeudi, novembre 04, 2004


It's when the clock strikes
and the horn blows
and whistle whistles
and the brake lights glow
and the streets gleam
and the clouds darken
and the weather stops
and I cross the street
and the traffic cop stares
and the puddles deepen
and the roof of the world won't let up
until it's time for the whole
day to end
until it's finally over.