By christopher
Submitted by chris
Date: 2002 Mar 27
Comment on this Work
[[2002.03.27.04.41.1007]]

you tell me to write a poem

you tell me to write a poem--
"purcell is such
a cop-out"--
as you sit on the floor
completing another collage
and hildegard von bingen
is a dim radiance
in the bedroom
so here it is
even though
i have nothing much to say
and that's really
okay
yes
of course i'm blessed
with you
and all we have--
never forget our escape!--
almost too late
hardly too soon
to be in this desert place
of sun and sand and cactus
bloom
here there's room
finally
and i for one can breathe
(music is holy
but you have
to listen)
and outside now
it is night
the pavement glistens
not with rain that hasn't
fallen
once
since we've arrived
but from sprinklers
trying to make green
what should be brown
especially now
especially here
a place blessedly parched
and beautifully sere--
there's no poem here
not now not ever
however
you want to read it
we've been through too much
to lie
for beautiful purposes
so i won't
i have no faith in anything
but i'll have faith in us
like i have faith in the
seasons
and everything that goes on
and on
without logic and without
reasons
this is treasonous
talk for a love poem
i know
i know
we'll go on too
for things we may never
be able to articulate
fully
so i say
don't worry
nothing is chance
forget the steps
we'll go on dancing