Saturday, May 02, 2009

from Colombo, My Wife


Take my wife my life is not my life
My wife your life is not your life
Taken into these bare hands which make us haptic eyes
And evidence which we sometimes see this dirt
Is only dirt except where it is where it’s not supposed to be
A technology is what we leave to experts except when seeing
Becomes a kind of evidence we see
In the play-back of all that was meant
In this intention which is us whenever we believe our eyes

That it is a crime to live Colombo grasps
He holds his wife somewhere else in bed
Her body her voice which is all body I hear
You my wife in this Colombo my wife
And I am not afraid to live I am not afraid
To die if this seeing gives our deaths meaning
If it is a kind of sunshine only seen off-screen
Adumbrating the darker deeds and mayhem of this world.

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