Thursday, July 17, 2008

O Coevals (II)

So that all that gets rem
embered is "hate" and "them"
*This* is what he got
Abandoned consignment

Steeped in a sense of loss
Perfectly still with
Your bow between
The things you have been

Having been witnessed
Having witnessed
Me in the exited
Air you make me think

Of other way stations
Of possibility which
Won't suffice for nothing
Other than what's left

Over toxins trash exists
Until they erect condos
And no longer represent
Our entropy in double

Voids sustained blanks
Lyric won't admit
Some use in poetry
Except to appropriate

A general intellect
Predicts your shipwreck
Forthcoming waits in lyric
Sings and doesn't

Fulfill what is linked but
Not here like an instruction
To vanish in music
Every time we listen.

1 comment:

Misty's Mom said...

I was searching horse blogs and came across yours. Only, it is just beautiful poetry. Just beautiful poetry. . . Isn't that something to ponder?