718 Readings | 2 Ratings
Weak Attempts
In these days of
sleeping in closets,
huddled to memory
like boxed papers,
it is to read through old notes
on apple crisp and yellow teeth
to fall slumped into the same
hands again and again.
this hand so raised
as to come down in a hard moment
I can’t remember if pills or gas
wrote the afternoon, or both
and I forgot that too.
on the phone
shaking all parts
to the floor
a half-foot
It is to rummage through piles to stay objective,
to tease the thumb in and out of scalding water,
and I have hidden all my mugs.
It’s a memorial gathering
scattered as shingles on rooftops
and they’re all coming down,
together, draped over hangers
with bottles and cars.
sleeping in closets,
huddled to memory
like boxed papers,
it is to read through old notes
on apple crisp and yellow teeth
to fall slumped into the same
hands again and again.
this hand so raised
as to come down in a hard moment
I can’t remember if pills or gas
wrote the afternoon, or both
and I forgot that too.
on the phone
shaking all parts
to the floor
a half-foot
It is to rummage through piles to stay objective,
to tease the thumb in and out of scalding water,
and I have hidden all my mugs.
It’s a memorial gathering
scattered as shingles on rooftops
and they’re all coming down,
together, draped over hangers
with bottles and cars.
Posted 09/26/09
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