Wednesday, July 13, 2011

bitterness (if it weren't for me)

bitterness (if it weren't for me)

"But it was the hands that were too lived in, overused."
Divisadero, Michael Ondaatje


it was Disney & Xmas
that drove him to the edge
of bitterness

where he swam often & alone

he had considered earphones or plugs
against the din of everything artificial

but the noise urged him over&over
to keep his toes right there at the edge


she taught him to hold
a piece of dark chocolate
in his mouth with a sip
of warm calming tea

& she whispered to him softly
dark chocolate on her tongue
if it weren't for me
you wouldn't have poetry

and this is what coursed his veins
yes and if i could kiss
your bittersweet lips all night
i'd know what peace tastes like


her words that had been carved
on his bones beneath skin&muscle
remained muted & hidden
against the roar of magical kingdoms

until the very center of him
had been pulled so tight&twisted
he could not unclench his jaw to say
see here this osseous tattoo of me&you


as a teenager he had read about
a movie sex scene claimed to be real
Donald Sutherland & Julie Christie
were not pretending was the Legend

& this gave his young blood hope
against the awfulness of artificial
& this filled his chest with longing
only to be deflated (it wasn't true)


driving to florida he struck a large bird
he thought it a hawk, she said buzzard

returning to his manufactured life
he couldn't bring himself to wash

the silent mark of that bird hit
from the dented hood or his mind


the razorblades of caterwauling
left him blind & fingers numb
bruised swollen & frozen like stones

unless there was her like warm tea
and bittersweet chocolate coating
the silence of not having to speak


eyes closed his fingertips on her lips
shhhh there is nothing to worry about
this is not a movie or memory
i am here really really here
always. . .

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