(no subject)
these are the days to stay at home & rest your bones,
the days people dig out the jazz records and aging poems
hoping to hear some beautiful word that escapes the room
and bleeds out into the world. i used to be that way.
i had posters and prayers and chains and mantras;
it was all a battle and every second mattered.
but now i know that all the ink & reams of paper
just chase the moments they're supposed to capture.
the basements & streets & yards & beaches of my youth
will forever elude any binding or page. i shall live
and on the diamond shore they talk about across the sea
i hope to hear my memories in chords & harmony:
heavy low hopeful and brave
the words burn away.
the words burn away.