March 20, 2003

• 
  

  Laugh at me
  Shamefaces
  The fleeced sunlight pours and blends
  With your rocky eyes
  Shot through with rivers of moss.
  
  

  You drove by the Gateway
  And I watched you
  Washed you
  With a thought of redemption
  That made me scream your name
  As your flesh tore in two
  And your soul ripped into
  An angel bound with concrete.
  The needles
  They got to your brain.
  Stop me from following you,
  Please.
  I don’t want to feel.
  
  

  The Gateway is so far away
  And I remember
  When people used to say
  That angels loved that city
  But I say they lie,
  Because angels love more than cities.
  They want to stay
  So badly
  That I have felt the tugs and pulls
  Of their haloed wishes
  Bending my heart upwards
  So that I can see their silken wings
  Streaming through clouds
  In beads of impoverished color
  That pale and spring into rippling radiance
  Just before slapping my eyes away
  And vanishing without memory.
  
  

  It’s too bad that the car you drove
  Was black,
  Because I heard my heart snapping and cracking
  When I saw that coffin
  Plummet over the side.
  I wanted a shade of glory,
  And you went out
  Like something shoved aside,
  Like a burial at sea.
  I wanted to see your eyes again,
  One last time before.
  But then,
  I suppose that every minute you went
  I’d want to see them again.
  Still,
  It’s too bad the car was black.
  
  

  If only angels
  Weren’t so concerned with the tint
  Of the grass that wavers
  And shivers
  And the trees that quiver
  And wax fiery in summer flame.
  They’d maybe sing,
  And I’d hear their arias
  Shatter the windows of Mumbai
  And break the great hush
  Of valleys that brim over with silence.
  Then I’d sing too,
  Because that would be something worth
  Every Gateway

  

  • 8:18 am
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