Friday, October 23, 2009

Holy shit its a poem

In the name of the closet
in the
jealousies in boxes at the back what good advice
it is
in the closet, where decisions.

You’d think I’d forgotten
how to spell how to get along get
sleep, the mystery right out of it.

The mistake a body makes made
no the boat is an essential thing or
etre et néant
this practice of conversation
a field, concrete or whispering,

remembered, the first
of the greater triumphs
the in and out and
end, and then again
it is true the hands have it.

What is it
what it is
not to move.


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