Friday, September 9, 2005

the night slips, surprises with how quick it stumbles from your body, bed. dawn takes over, spreads its day glow. everything, smoke. all day thoughts converge—sinking & sinking into sleep’s plush red flesh.last night your body was not a body at all but a clumsy machine. you took too seriously the words of a poem touch any of these & something of yourself disappears. so you touched nothing, no one. at dinner you sat utterly still while the waiter poured your tea & when you opened your mouth to say thank you, nothing came out. in the parking lot you shuffled aimless with your friend trying to find the car, find a reason not to find the car, not to drive home where shadows waited for you in all the corners.