Friday, July 09, 2010

Props (Redux)

There will always be someone there
to tell you how to trim the basil, that you shouldn't
let the prop own you, that there are going
to be people all up in your grill wanting stuff
from you when you are too tired to give
them what they want--which happens to be a lot.
There will be days when the days seem not like days at all
but more like bowls of acid in a tent made of human skin.
Your whole demeanor is based on sleeplessness
and still you muster the bear joke, the sick puppy
joke, and the careful consideration of details
to make ends meet joke. I love your style. I will not
haunt you when I'm gone, I will position myself carefully
behind you, lifting your arms should you need to wave,
turning your head if there is something at your side.
You really can count on me, the rest is up for grabs.

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

so perfect. thank you.

5:10 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

clear language with something to say!

11:45 AM  
Blogger joanna said...

I like this poem a lot. Thank you.

5:59 PM  

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