?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Mon, Dec. 2nd, 2002, 10:16 pm
all kinds of motion

still wishing to talk.
still wishing to stop "shaking".
still listening to my own bad advice.
still not sending these sorts of things.

_________________________________

miscreants gave pauses
to the filthy little boy,
driving him to corners where
he could be safe-
hiding his eyes
and stealing his words away
to places where they wouldn't ever
come back.

the band of thieves not only stole
his senses
his notes
his ears also
brought the realization that
along the way there were no more
shrill disabling marches,
no more rolls as the r's fell away,
and no more drum beats
to set rythm on its end
he had to reinvent again-
the song he sang,
it had solvents,
and it flittered into

sarsaparilla mozzarella
run down stairs and
daunting buntings calling for the
man who held them
insincerely flatteringly
mastering the physically
forming dreaming
streaming just as
first steps film caught
and he

stepped down
the tempo again, looking to reclaim
an old stride, in the dispersal of legs
further from further from each other
than knees could comprehend
and folded hands could ever
bring to bear.