Monday, July 7, 2008

the period light train

Fuck writes,
my period is as long as the day is
but no matter, no matter at all.
We will be on the train soon enough
and there are eighty-nine periods on
board. I ride for the memories, but don't
think I take it lightly. It is never light.
It is never light out when you
want it to be, and in the morning it is dark
but none of that matters on the train
there is e-lec-tric-i-ty. Jumbo
sidewalk, and I may have sleep
walked out the door, and stepped
right on to the tracks. light as air.
These tracks will only lead to more
periods where you or I will be.
Back on the train hurtling toward hometowns
I relax. You sprinkled pepper on that
naughty ticket taker, but I fell back asleep
and dreamt I had walked to your hometown
where we drunk dialed my old choir teacher.
You didn't laugh and just stared real hard
at nothing.

1 comment:

Alex said...

This. is. so. good.

it reminds of the new york school poets like O'Hara and Berrigan and Ashberry. But it doesn't just sound derivative.

I love this.