and suddenly spring
Posted: Wed Jan 04, 2006 5:08 am
tries to untangle the conversation.
with me. the wicked boy far beyond the pylons.
there in the rain. here waiting for my father to arrive
(so we could go back to all the things
we used to do together) or to sing with his Dylan
toned voice. sounding so only within the silence
in my head. maybe he could write a word or two
before the wind sweeps away the postman.
who ate the letter from him because that postman surely is
as wicked as the rustle among his old teeth.
yet between my ears I’m the only one who lost it.
with the “no trespassing” sign on my neck. head
is hot. please. feel my heat. my hands. don’t ask
what burns within the matter. what gravitates the earth?
where the hell did my cigarette disappear from my lips?
words get wet at the outskirts of the tongue. I rebuke
myself for those thoughts although I remember my father
also used to play the guitar with his other hand. and I try
to stick with this memory but deep inside I know
that the postman keeps the most heartfelt letters to himself.
with me. the wicked boy far beyond the pylons.
there in the rain. here waiting for my father to arrive
(so we could go back to all the things
we used to do together) or to sing with his Dylan
toned voice. sounding so only within the silence
in my head. maybe he could write a word or two
before the wind sweeps away the postman.
who ate the letter from him because that postman surely is
as wicked as the rustle among his old teeth.
yet between my ears I’m the only one who lost it.
with the “no trespassing” sign on my neck. head
is hot. please. feel my heat. my hands. don’t ask
what burns within the matter. what gravitates the earth?
where the hell did my cigarette disappear from my lips?
words get wet at the outskirts of the tongue. I rebuke
myself for those thoughts although I remember my father
also used to play the guitar with his other hand. and I try
to stick with this memory but deep inside I know
that the postman keeps the most heartfelt letters to himself.