Tuesday, June 2, 2009

from a shift in direction that is shifting direction
it is still easy to differentiate
between a love song written for a loved one
and a love song written for a song

a found object can be returned
only when the seeker
knows what it is
without seeing it

are you to turn the color of my insides
and let me back into the regiment
permit me to accommodate myself with correlating plans
synchronizations, meeting points and times
so i know like i used to
that the other side will receive me
with my seven snake eyes, paid malevolence and fangs

give me you are a fiend in my gut
and what i would like to rely on
where do you go
will it stop your deafness
onset by too many
who may have meant well

if i needed you here i would have willed it by now
the ache is an impasse, closer is terminal
but i unjustly reminisce the way the wrong key opens an ancient door
there, there nowhere
that does not recede, wading through reason on a starvation diet
with one broken oar, two black eyes, and a scalpel
to draw you out

i have had but could not keep

it's an electrical storm, that is what happened

not for you, for me
swimming in my own blood less bravely than my custom
i became a drain, then a messenger
now objects adopt your character
and i am in love with an appliance
as if you made it work