Thursday, August 12, 2010

Hallelujah Anyway

I'm going to build something vast and spongy
and invite you in, and if you're too busy or distracted
to come in, then I'll just dance around you politely.
When I pour hot water on my house it hisses.
I'll paint my monster silver and cover the scars
with gold leaf. The fog of my breath is a narcotic
and you are putting your face in it. How do you feel now?
I'll bring you out to the garden and show you
the stones I moved around. I'll take you to my silver forest
with orange dust storms. Yeah, you like that, don't you?
I can dance around your life better
than anyone you've ever seen do that sort of thing.
I mean: I can really move in a dazzling fashion.
I'm warning you in this poem. I want you to be prepared
and surprised. I want to blow on your candles
and watch them flutter. I'm made of fur and balsam
and you are on my wish list, so get in the car; we are
going somewhere in slow motion.
My warm machine is sparkling.
You know, I had a feeling you were gone.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

who is driving and who is navigating? there's always the chance of ending up in the new jersey audubon society if you're not careful...

9:49 AM  

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