Written and Spoken
Stay tuned for more space dedicated to my practice of
word choreography
the spaces our mouths have held (2006)
it was freshly winter
the winter you found your girlfriend still soft
yet, not breathing
she had gone back to her old and rusty lover
you knew there was nothing you could do to stop her
you loved her
anyway
and
then pitifully even more
as you pressed your lips to hers
in efforts to revive
what had already passed
in those moments of first knowing you, freshly summer
sitting on the stone steps to a large building
in the city you once called your backyard
when you brought an ashtray
because you knew i didn’t approve of you
trashing your butts on the street for me to see
i rested
after you drove your motored steed
back to where you once belonged
and i watched a light bulb
swing from a ceiling in a room
six stories up
from the bench I sat on
and wondered
how i might breathe till i saw you again
now you tell me things about holding on
holding onto jobs
holding onto reason
holding onto what is not enough, which defines
how much we are in each others lives, now
you tell me things about humility
and you have more to say
than nearly all
the others i have had the chance to listen to
i cannot confess to you what I am doing with my time
i cannot say more than that
when i try to speak, my heart fills with sand
the shores of my love leaving a sea salty wet tear
to fall in place of my best intentions
for speaking