030408A
-----------
The list of the unavailable
grows longer, day by day.
I saw them add your name.
They penciled it in
between several strangers.
Your beauty disappeared
as beauty always does,
somewhere between the lines.
They cancelled any other plans
leaving a broken alphabet.
Smudges remained
where I had been erased.
It all happens to the rhythm
drum beat of a heart.
There too I find,
the same denial,
betrayal of any metaphors.
It all seems the same now
as it was long before.
Everything is as vacant,
and open as the sky above.
It is as if nothing changes,
no matter how we go on.
You count your gains,
where I was lost.
I wished for irrational lips,
but that too appears perished
in calculated relations.
---------------------------
030408B
-----------
Hopeless wait for a thaw,
out of the cold as death
left to watching
sad increments of deterioration
melting away the premises
of long lines of syllogisms.
Logical propositions
were never as fatal as now.
Something always dies
fallen on sharp reasons.
The conditions of minds
are now almost always
barbed wire and barricades
The warmer season
arrives grown colder again.
That type of weather
is what is most predictable.
It is difficult to see flesh
on the scattered bones
tossed around broken facades.
There are so many
various types of death
that it becomes encyclopedic,
with endless added appendices
concerning variant finalities.
We go on,
to different destinations.
We go on,
not going on anymore.
It is always buried anyway,
in new silences and solitudes,
everything having changed,
so that nothing really changes.
The barrenness of earth,
becomes that softening rot
that is almost a caress,
everything else as unfeeling
cold as dead stone.
----------------------
030408C
-----------
If there was any luck,
it was someone else's,
and anything other than that,
proved to be less
than more dust in the wind.
It is what gets in the eyes,
to explain away the tears.
It is not supposed to matter,
whatever it once was,
nothing to be taken personally.
She seemed to be luck
but she always played
another hand.
It is always a losing proposition,
when it is always voted down.
We never quite escaped,
the notice of the crowd.
Prisoners of that type,
never really get away,
and there are no honeymoons.
Do we ever get to stop looking
or is it always the imagination.
There is always something
that one can choose to give up,
in exchange for another tease.
Don't ask what the questions are,
and I don't know any answers.
Experience says I can never prove it
even if I were to try to,
and you don't want an emotion.
I am so tired of truth,
and wanting for love and beauty.
If I were the priest,
and you were the ritual,
I would still want more than that.
------------------------------------------
|
