motel bathroom soaking wet the football notch on the old rust belt
i remember how it felt
how it feels
how much hurt it takes to
make it real
you heard me norman anyone but her
not her
i tossed and turned
and loathed the snoring that kept my mind to her on her
high expectations lack of divine
the jacobean confession
don’t want to stand in the way be in the way me in the way but this this is exactly the kind of thing that leads to high stakes in the great lakes oarless lifeboats
heads at or below
waterlines don’t even think ‘it’s fine’
it’s not
the struggle just to float or to find your way back on the boat
these boys have got irons in the fire though quite a few whether they learned it from me or already knew true is true
but the struggle isn’t with irons or industrialism it is with selfishness and the expectations damned twice
but now sufficed and only ‘ electric mainline’ high when i would like them to be ‘lazer guided’ high
‘ladies and gentlemen’ high
like the qualities ascribed to a shy relative-stranger who remembers so well nearly everything i say but still never truly looks my way just extends her arms at length to say that one fucking word she said it i heard and i i just watch ohio waiting for her to be old-er or bold-er or a certain kind of smarter to realize the value of why it is we try harder the ussses
i wonder if it could be truth or merely the consequence of overly lonely the fall-back only but quiet is calling the rain is falling
all the those curls are whispering ‘bony’ screaming ‘only’
negative ‘feared’ ‘figured’ ‘weird’
lacking the concrete nature of relation pleasantly deflating each salutation but still stealing my words and phrases entire weeks of days
the whole of this settlement is betterment
finally we knew
we could see
dead right foot tells me heavily that the dream doesn’t come true not for her not for you
not based on the force of the night-time feeling not on the amount of sorrow come stealing
not on the boards pressed so neatly together
made of coincidence gathered bits of time
and the weather
there are ways to be wanted there are ways
then hypocrisy noticed that i don’t have the truth any more than you
and everyone knows that true is true
but her she heard it before she knows what it was
how it faltered the why the because
just a little bit more right here i think
we’ll get the lines to finally blink
point to the end and actually get there
have enough courage to stop and to stare
at all the new light that gets in this room
wonder ‘how could anyone sleep until noon?’
No comments:
Post a Comment