Sunday, November 18, 2012

repeat

might be the will to reopen
joining with the wind
night appears before me like its joking
centers the longing to reappear here
what two hands do to disarm this
patience
these thrills are beyond this
patiently i reach beyond this
alarmed by the symbolic and
the last song spinning around the
last song spinning around the
last song around
summers
out there
like a tonic for the wounded
emptied of its tears
whole in the june light
what do two hands do to disarm this
patiently these thrills are beyond this and
i  reach beyond the summer skin for
the thrill
lost in these years
and the last song spinning around
the last song spinning around the
last song

Monday, November 12, 2012

after and before

sunday light
drunken mirages below
14th and she is corralled in her
own streets

misbehaves
like a vaulted hellion before the city
meets a hurricane again

tonight there will be rain in these
streets and
she runs her tongue against the
smooth aluminum rind of a beercan

she doesn't know me enough to
keep me anywhere in mind
the thought of my name summons
jingles and loops
i imagine her so defended against
the barest approach of my humble
memory i could be an allergic mishap or the
weather eighteen days ago

summaries of this night and others exist
somewhere
scrawled in a two word note
tumbled in pocket with keys and disinterested
nicorette and 54 cents wrapped
tight in a pointless receipt like a
lover on the
next to last
day