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Date Posted: 08:01:05 07/26/01 Thu
Author: Sarah
Author Host/IP: 166.82.52.215
Subject: Read tediously: As This Story Wwill Unfold

Arriving at a moment just when you think
you've got it all. Addicted his fingertips
strumming evenly unbalanced against cold
spine of my back sided with my own feeling.
He hurried the independence, opened car door
and jumped.

God of small things doesn’t console past time,
and my heart swelled old in present time.
But, I never understood him and he never me
doomed people left to live so that we could be.
Lonely, I had feathers to fly upon,
and he had breezes to shoot.

The sun splits through ragtag streets,
dust and shavings capture our hands,
as he closed his crowing eyes,
I found relentlessly eye-catching,
and still feel his ever-present sight.

His hand brushed to calm my speeding heart.
On his death’s day breath shrank softly to mist,
his life brought to me what I seemed was sad.
So, separation now exists of a sort, but a link
across time brings reasons and we come together
in still moments we shared, though, contrarily spaced.

Bridges crossed what we understood and glimpses
remain backlashes now needed for this blinding
light where time needs to go and what I'm coming to.
I'd rather be here in my comfortable den drinking beer
(Only, a warm twelve pack) backsliding into his adolescence,
realizing motions where he once sat at a table faked smiles.

Ears listen to a wake of friends sharing cheap whiskey,
in this sanctuary my mind has come to invent,
invested hard dollars for someone to take the leap.
Fallen wreaths each imbibe their own share of life's mystery
such as this feline sips and turns away and sips some more.
Everyone’s surprise surfaces when you answer
their questions truthful about mourning.

What lies in fate is assumed duly noted and filed. But then,
everything one says words are ammunition for the next war.
He was my hero. Heroes inevitably fade, falter, and fail.
Should I praise him in the face of persistent dwindling promises?
Or point up the obvious deficiency between what was and what is?
Oh man another unstated death premonition.

Am I turning celestially wrong to a psychic mind channel?
The subtle shading between selling out and staying healthy
requires compromise. I always seem to move backwards
down sidewalks, up stairs, closing doors, opening doors.
My nervous heart and soul condemn me from blinking.

I despise those who are calm. My scrumptious life
chewing gummed even understands my anxiety today,
and am I to be held accountable for making life better,
a commitment to myself to gallantly move forward, now
I have quit drinking and still arrive at this poetry read
twenty minutes late.

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