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Tuesday, March 10, 2009

the cool spot

those moments when
the flickering shadow of
transience
lingers
and contracts in the whirl
of our impenetrable
emptiness
our ragged hearts
need to get back
to the sailboat
in the attic
*
the moon was lost
in a timeless bit
of illusion
i stopped crying
suddenly
the frigid air
was inside
me
the blue patches of
snow were illumined by
mortality
as if i were someone else
walking away from a stranger
dividing solitude
was becoming a point of
orientation
and departure
with no way out
of the split
*
perfect skin
is on sale
in the basement
i read half of that novel
hopping around like a kangaroo
walking between raindrops i remembered
how much i love the beautiful fog
when i returned to the electric light
of the work world i thought
i don't bend over enough
i looked at my bloated
midriff
with inner vision
i sent a request down
to the basement of bones
i want to live in the mountains
in some unnamed country
sorry for the blank email
but then again i don't need frigid air
to find the cool spot
*
(with j. eaise)

1 comment:

Daniel Finn said...

i stopped crying and suddenly the fridgid air was inside me- I love this, it's powerful

perfect skin
is on sale
in the basement
i read half of that novel
hopping around... nice shift, different angle, renewal of energy.



how much i love the beautiful fog
when i returned to the electric light
of the work world i thought
i don't bend over enough
i looked at my bloated
midriff...

again the poem reaches out to me with this section
there is a poinancy in the desires of a lonely person, the longing for a child's vision, expressed
here in striking images and a certain good natured-ness

right on