Wednesday, October 26, 2011


My biography is quite the tale
Verbs doing all kinds of unbelievable
Reeling from the turning wheel
The potter
pulling at the walls
of her wet clay pot
searching for the center
where the spin is mono
the perfect roundness it promises
Maybe there’s more
to the imperfect bend in the clay
That remains to be seen

But for now I’m left
with the events of it all
This and That got capitalized
because they reached
the bone marrow
The red of the bleeding
is a word here
but there it was
what you see when you see red
It was also the kiss of joy
exploding spring buds
ocean waves licking my toes,
foaming at the mouth

There was the you and me of it
the players
the random genetic mix
molecules colliding into plots
story lines
foreshadowing and climaxing
comedy and tragedy
My tears fell
into applauding hands
at the entrances and exits
Hospital tubes and strands of hair
pulling the curtains back
the stage, the table, the bed,
sand and grass

No comments:

Post a Comment