Sunday, February 10, 2008

silver

paper
cotton
leather


linen
lace



teeth (skin)
and fingernails


scraping teetering on the sharpest edge
of hope and disappointment
ground(?) which bears no comfortable weight

no time to rest
no
none
at all
who could have guessed?



if we had forseen
what would we be, now?
- how would we have done it, then?
how?
how would we?

would we?


willow is in there somewhere
famed for bending without breaking

if green
or living
or wet through



roped one to the other by shared regret
disputed memories
climbing side by side
scarcely together

our clumsy feet dislodging arguments like rocks
worn smooth with handling
compulsive handling
smooth
still heavy weights

your face reflecting distance and uncertain
in the uneven patina of hurt


i could go on,
pursue the tiresome metaphor of compasses
stuck
and maps
tattered muddied and torn

or lost


i could go on
if i had the heart for it


we could

if we had



16 to 19 have no name
likewise 21 to 24

faceless or familiar

the photographs cannot be trusted
unreliable signposts
to dubious destinations


and there i go again
poetic detours slyly round the swamp
slipping eliding
swerving to miss
the sticky mud
the persistently massing bruise



i could give names to those anonymous years
if i had the heart for it


i could
if i did

we could
if we had

This disease

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