Sunday, April 29, 2012

The scene is set after shower

Avoiding the puddle spreading out
on the desk, a piano playing somewheres
I couldn't see, the shower whining behind, I
wasted my life on the screen gladly, roaring madly--
me, who was bent to the keyboard chattering,
me, trying to rip something from my soul I
wanted to be there, whether I had to make it
exist or fuck it and pretend, me, dressed in unbuttoned
flannel shirt and torn blue shorts, me, thinking
out there into the space, out there where you are walking in the rain,
I guess, walking and looking inward burying your past,
me creating this act of blister, mortar, pound--
at the clock ticking with the water's dripping, the rhythm invading
Kerouac's voice as he reads from Visions leaning to
the piano's soothing unpredictably, as the pattern rises,
as the keys spread achingly indistinguishably forward
through perceived stop motion time, slam! Here it goes, Aw!
across gulfs of years and experience without sadness, leaving me
here, a lone fleshy brainless lump, tapping, avoiding, beaming, bleeding,
sleeping, eating, ending, forgiving, careening, caring, repeating,
watching the water dry out

1 comment:

  1. Fantastic rhythm and word choice. Sliding and pounding, if that makes sense.