Walked down the tracks to
the run down mill, stood
under the gazebo as robins
pulled worms, a lone goose
in the stream behind stones.
I held your shoulders, you
asked me to let you go and
sat on the red brown steps.
What if you weren't in control of getting away,
couldn't just go get the fix and drive with it.
I take in folders, sit at my desk
and send them back. I reflect, in
the comforts of civiliation bred.
I don't climb through trees or
wrestle with nets. Instead I
have leisure and ledgers,
feel tension at rest.
What must the boxer or the pro wrestler know that
I haven't felt about being oneself in violent ways.
You finished your bear attack book.
She killed herself five years later.
I did a sudoku in record time.
The library felt cold and lonely,
the restaurant noisy and stuffy.
I stood up early, got out my
house keys in the parking lot.
Like always like we do now.
Holding back the truth is so cool, letting them
hang themselves while staying savvy and safe.
We were both creative, then
my legs got stiff and my body
started feeling restless.
I spend a day in my head, it can get a bit weird.
My body heads toward yours -- can you blame it?
2011
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