Sunday, March 07, 2010

For Robert

My friend when you go away
Into a medical emergency
An emergency of how living
Is practiced I miss you

I feel I am missing out
On my own life the consequences
Of which a building never
Materializing would make it true

Because the building is never
Built it remains a proposal
Or plan about how prosody
Lifts the body outside itself

How ekstasis cures
Your books remain to be written
Because the possible
Doesn’t end with words.

2 comments:

Eleni Stecopoulos said...

This poem is so beautiful Thom and I am grateful for its presence. I miss you both.

Kythe said...

Dear Thom,

I am so happy you wrote this. It makes me miss you, too, even though, and because, we hardly know each other.

Yours,
Kythe