Thursday, March 06, 2008
I Know I Have (from "A Slip Of The Tongue")
written about pain and indifference
and demons and
loss,
but today as I reflect through this open window,
the sun is out,
the clouds come and go,
the birds sing in the trees
and the wet green grass
jumps with life.
it would seem that there will always be another day.
the sun will come again
and life will birth
and grow.
but me, well, I have become stagnant.
I have become stale.
I ache in the desire to live and live and
live.
and through this window
I see that much life is living
where I am
not.
for me, another day
is a slow death:
I must wake, dress,
and move on to my place of business
where my soul will suffocate and die,
where lines are drawn, erased, and then redrawn.
and at the end of my day
I come back to this
and shit
and flush
and wonder about butterflies and
rainy days
and old comic strips.
much of my life will be forgotten,
and maybe only a small portion of it will appear
as a paragraph
in the obituaries.
but this life today outside this window
has kept me
as other things have not.
death, life, both are moving forward
with the eternal question mark inside of me.
and today I think I will stick with the latter
as I hit these typewriter keys,
as the wind makes its way through this
open
window.
and demons and
loss,
but today as I reflect through this open window,
the sun is out,
the clouds come and go,
the birds sing in the trees
and the wet green grass
jumps with life.
it would seem that there will always be another day.
the sun will come again
and life will birth
and grow.
but me, well, I have become stagnant.
I have become stale.
I ache in the desire to live and live and
live.
and through this window
I see that much life is living
where I am
not.
for me, another day
is a slow death:
I must wake, dress,
and move on to my place of business
where my soul will suffocate and die,
where lines are drawn, erased, and then redrawn.
and at the end of my day
I come back to this
and shit
and flush
and wonder about butterflies and
rainy days
and old comic strips.
much of my life will be forgotten,
and maybe only a small portion of it will appear
as a paragraph
in the obituaries.
but this life today outside this window
has kept me
as other things have not.
death, life, both are moving forward
with the eternal question mark inside of me.
and today I think I will stick with the latter
as I hit these typewriter keys,
as the wind makes its way through this
open
window.
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Selected Poetry
He Wanted To Start Over (from "A Slip Of The Tongue")
I went to go see him.
he had just gotten out of prison.
he had served a short term. ... (more)
Directions (from "A Slip Of The Tongue")
my pregnant wife and my son were waiting in the
car
as I hurried into the gas station to buy some cheap ... (more)
Just Living (from "Disarming The Atom Bomb")
I have been swallowing vodka like a fish
and sitting here at 4am
staring at the TV ... (more)
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