A fine poem by Chris Martin, from Boku's The Day Reagan Died. It makes good sense to me this sunny day in February, Fahrenheit parked at 50 degrees, smell of sweet but not yet identifiable flowers and trees hanging about.
*
PATIENTLY EMBRACING
There are yellow lions prowling
Like great blonde acresses across
The wind-swept avenue when finally
The morning sun would have me
Stir, still in Brooklyn, forever
Thinking of California, the small
Savory pies I used to eat, the idea
Of it like a woman that someone
Has tried to set me up with, glamorous
And a little out of my league. Out of bed
Now, the cats purring, paint fumes
Rising from the apartment below.
I am out of love and it angers
Me unreasonably, bottom
Lip swollen and useless. The record
Player is broken too, but I have my books
And their company delights them, as my friends
Do me, when there is matter enough to draw
Us all together. The cats tussle and groom, I
Hang about in my underwear, the room
Perfectly capable of holding each. I cannot contain
My disappointment at life, but as it spills over
It mingles with thits opposite and the balance
Is generally restored. Maybe I'll take a walk
To the library, one can never have enough
Friends, or sun, wind patiently embracing.
"I am an idealistic, naive, passionate, truth-seeking, spiritually motivated artist, unschooled in the science of law and finance." --Wesley Snipes
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment