Lament (re-post)
another feeling betrays this
passing season, the development of
human dentition, the decline of
the soviet union, i’ll write a
book about them all and call it
winter. i’ve the sea chained to my
pocket watch, when it crests it looks like
men with white mustaches trying to
break the surface. leave em’ to the
whales. leave em’ to the jellyfish and
sharks and coral. i’ve no use for them,
for apples that aren’t green, teas without
honey, moons i can’t climb and
mountains i can’t see. for christ’s sake,
let them be. leave them to their own
devices, as they do with me.
let them sleep inside my piano.
let them rest atop my typewriter keys.
i deserve a ghost. one scared of it’s
own reflection and kittens and spiral
staircases. don’t take that away from me,
st. petersburg, what is it i’ve done to you?
i keep your snow in my teeth-
i keep your cold in my sleeves.
i’ve no message to november,
at the top of this hill sits another hill,
and atop of that another, we make
pencil marks on door frames to mark the
progress made and remaining distance until we
touch space. i want to know where you are,
december, i made a map of your dreams-
i’ve followed streams and estuaries.
i stitched my past to my future and
found only the present-
merry christmas,
i guess, to you and
to me.
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