Thursday, September 28, 2006
For David Lynch
care and respect. I would like to climb a tall hill, sit in
the cool grass and feel the sun on my face. I would very
much like to make love to a beautiful woman who I had
genuine affection for. I would like that very much." -Dale Cooper
What do we leave when we die?
A word, a song, a bench, a sigh:
"You were here before she and I,"
My head is numb, my eyes are dry-
Just as well that I won't cry.
Still the planet isn't static-
The earth moves, the crust renews.
Jesuits, evangelicals, deists
Believe your myths
I tell you this:
When I die I will persist
Still in some form, I know not which
And so continue to exist.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Resurrection #4
Something happened
I gave the pieces of myself to people I'd meet
Until there were no pieces left to give away
But a personality was only a thing I had made
A nom de guerre so sadly hid behind
And slowly the pieces came back to me
They were given; I took them - I do not know
They returned like a wayward child or errant carrier pigeons
No one noticed as they settled on the roof tops and hanging baskets of this city
But here they were nonetheless, back at my window.
