Sunday, February 12, 2006

keep moving thru it / things to do /

on this night / sick ness sets in
throat be comes / raw / sore

what is this / & one child coughs the deep cough

coff coff / bark bark / & could it be / dust
from the city streets after a winter of sand ed roads

air is grey / these days / sky clears / sun shines
but the air / thick thick with clouds of dust


could this be the ill ness / or is it /
some thing more omminous /









& some how i am / full of regret

for words said /thots of the mean est kind

& i don't wish to be un kind / ever / & yet

some times / the anger / seethes / rises up to

the surface / comes from the heart

most lee / it comes from
// that place of pain //







& i'm final lee learn ing how to give things a way

all those / precious / bits of no thing / things that

collect / things with no mean ing / mean ing / less

yet / so fill ed with / bits of me








& the thermometer reads / minus 4 c

dry crisp nite / too cold for smoking out side

oh yes / i'm full of it to night / /

& i'm hoping i haven't got the bug my child has

burnt throat / / /


& my connection to the world / wide / web

falters / freyed @ the edges / /





& i keep having conversations with the dead / /






is there really any difference between / me / them







& so i receive as my gifts / from tam's apartment
an old tuba (garden ornament) / mouth piece & keys miss ing for ever
a cement mask to hang in the garden / a book / a conte' drawing of tam
framed / drawn by a local artist / his last work / to match the drawing of
big g /when he was five / also a conte / that already hangs on the wall
it was the one piece of art no one want ed / so i got it / / i also received
a cream colour ed suede jacket with fringes / &

his black cow boy boots / only worn a few times
he bought them to be buried in a couple of years ago
/ / but i guess didn't tell any one / they
cremated him yesterday / /


they are a size 12 / much too large for me / /
not sure what to do with the boots / /






the tuba sits in the middle of the garden on a hump of snow
my five year old put it there / /
i can see it in / the almost full moon light
blue / every thing is blue / shiny blue snow / funny moon







such a strange week / time less / fast it went past fast

consumed by thot / the last visits / the last conversation
that should have never been / how he rose thru the fog to chat
one last time / struggle / yes / a struggle to find the words /
the ones to say / good bye / a few times over / /



i'm wait ing for a funeral / for valentines day / for the wake
i'm wait ing for tears /


or not / /


wait ing for this / to be over / / /













& as i pause on this late nite / i think of 2 others who died a year a go

a mother who took her child's life / & then her own / /


& i feel the sad ness of the one left be hind / / what a long sad year
to come back to this / /




& i try to send thots of comfort / but there aren't any /
words never adequate / never / mean ing full / load ed
with / oh how the heart tries to speak / it's not enough







& this sad ness drains us / each / & every one / with a story
a death / or 2 / things that can not be contain ed /
carry this burden of memory / sorrow / things / lost













& so / i wash laundry / loads & loads of turn ing spinning

end less / / piles / / & the dry er dries dries / spins as well
as the wash er / end less / cycle of / this life / this week /








/

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