Thursday, November 29, 2007

gardens: fires

How badly

we all want to be
forgotten in our beds;

stinking of our mucus, of our bones.

Wailing against the fires

put us out
put them out

Only we've created something
that resembles the lights in a store window
because it is airy and tangible

Everything so tangible,
to the point of being real
life.

only, the smoke makes it clear
while we crawl to the door

yeah,
there is some breathing going on
but I'm not sure where to find the grass

because I haven't seen it in days
so maybe

I'll figure

each of my toes is the petal of a chrysanthemum
and I'm me in there
and every other

equal as a garden

and growing out the window.


(ps: I liked this )

4 comments:

Nikkita said...

this has a really nice musical quality to it, especially from the fourth to seventh lines

traffic jam said...

there are a bunch of poets reading tonight at cooper union (great hall) to celebrate philip levine's 80th birthday. it's at 7. i'm going. do you have class?

appleoftheearth said...

I actually have to work. I was going to call off for that but I needed the hours and called off for the weekend. Let me know how it goes!

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