Monday, November 30, 2009

Like a Library

You have been ignited by fear
so what little awaits you has nearly been gobbled up
by the ushers. A fleet-footed dude, his
speech is deliberately flawed.
I went to Storm King once and it was beautiful
being there and walking around eating
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
You were there, you remember; that wasn't
long ago. I smiled all the way through
getting lost. Four people hunched over a map
in an office, in a small house, on a state park
looking for a way to get us back on the main road.
There will always be people repeating chickens, establishing
rich meat like buttery soft pearls or wings themselves
coated with sauce. A farm that grows shit like that stuff.
Approximately what I weigh is appropriate for me.
I like you inside my room with chairs and a rolling cart.
I love you. When the movie is on the brown rug, things get wavy -
sleepy legs saw scenery all rubber and creamy,
but you know the rest.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

sigh. in a good way.

3:31 PM  

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