Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Beautiful Soil

I am filling the space
you left behind with a few things
that I forgot about while you were here.
My bed is made of old hair and books.
I put on my flip-flops and this
little sprint of light from under the door
flickers loosely around my thighs;
it provides enough light to make a sandwich by.
Bread again. A vacation would be pleasant,
perhaps somewhere with pencils
and paper. Thin ducts of water
streaming from a legendary dish.
Waste time considering the mortality rates of cute things
versus that of rough hewn things. Underestimate the value
of past hugs. Consider stopping that stuff now.
I will focus on the incessant pang of the new now.
I will stop making the animal sounds and
raise my voice in song instead. A crystal clear vision
of the present shivers down my spine.
How long until I'm on beautiful soil?


Anonymous Anonymous said...


7:02 AM  
Blogger joanna said...


10:41 AM  
Anonymous leslea said...

i think with 'the incessant pang on the new' you're safely on beautiful soil

thanks TC

1:47 PM  
Anonymous leslea said...

or, with 'the incessant pang oF the new'...

some things thaw out s...l...o...w...l...y


1:49 PM  

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