Posted: Wednesday, March 4, 2009 | |

There are other types of losses; discrete letter scale types, measurable,
word flights; given up on an original destination

four a.m, four a.m, and finally alone

let's talk about selective reality,
trying to drain meaning from telephone wire sap voices, or
how the bend in a neck, or a spine, can change the instance of seeing eye to eye or eye to ground

what keeps me awake, even though you aren't here?
well; for me, there's no consolation philosophy, doctor drink,
and I have to cure an ill season
there's no rest, lull cradle or bowls that stay bowls or ashtrays that don't wander
spit or laugh,
I have 6 special languages for cloud moments, water moments, and fire
and a tired tongue, numb or lazy or bloated by rebellion

four a.m, four a.m, happy alone

and you see! I am allowed passionless moments, separated from your scent motion vibrations,
allowed to rest
and kept company by gentle paper, ever patient, books which wait
wait for me and I can think actually think about what you mean
and if you are good for me
or if you will tell me, two decades plus a year from now in child years the same;
you need no one,
or if you will always appear bored by me,
and I'll get the look I just pinned down after a midnight drive-
the way Europeans look at the noble savage- very specific, listen-
give way for a vocalization or point as not to enrage the beast
it is stupid and knows not, serene and maybe more natural (baby sensitive)
wonder if we'd still move through the zoo-lense

the way the trees bend and show an ache with a curve,
and the non sound of frozen New England ground and snow preservation
reminds me I have alot to apologize for,
books and rooms and apartments full, but to myself

four a.m, four a.m, alone! blessedly,

a march inventory
a march time sort of forgiveness,
winter self this too will empty out
winter-spring hiccup
spring is the season for building


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