Sunday, January 23, 2011

There Is A Current Under River Ice

A mind beneath a child's stroller worth of ice.

elongate it

Spoon fed atmosphere drooling
a restaurant to-go cup where father hasn't paid
and the check is arriving late.
Mother bends, releasing a v-neck shirt.
A baby moans then dribbles a passive drink.

fast forward
I'm masturbating
I'm up in funding
I'm neck in neck in polls
I'm 'Critics Choice'
I'm employed
in moss ridden dew
on the birthday I decide
to not contact you.

We write still
enough to hand on thigh
toward the spring lace
tucked beneath your skirt.
I breathe the distance
in a language I can't speak
between an oak bench
and your leg
and i laugh.

This Was An Afterthought Yesterday

The abcess of a television
marks an entry dark;
A window that can’t be seen.

I said I wouldn’t sleep with you
and I won’t until you beg for it
and until I lose it
I’ll forget its an evening happening.

Breathe -
pump -
release -

How was your afternoon?

Now it was yesterday earlier
when we did our thing
laughing at your jokes
(I cringed)
like a prayer unfolding
I knelt to receive
the Denver omelets we made
in Paris
in Auburn
in Dreams.
You were blue that day
Coma therapy radiating the age
sag from your face

On the eve of a century.