1513
5.52
21.ii.24
aubade
for the dream book
often there’ll be a
disappearance
you’ll wait till you
can’t remember
like just now on the
bus
and everyone burst
into song
a song I wouldn’t
know
we were all Chinese
I was looking for
you
I was going to teach
this was the deportation
we’re used to it by
this time
someone dropped the
documents
that was a mad
scramble
all the words are
lost
something comes back
though
I’m carrying the
still wet canvas
now and then I’d
work on it
even as it drips
dark at the bus stop
so another country
winter still
still early
come from the
crowded dining
friendly, among
strangers
and though they will
help
it was a longing
where you were
so searching
but no words
wrong pants or none
no wallet
no pass
led a chorus
as far as
I forgot
later, who?
where were you?
and what a fool I’d
been
the day just coming
on
sometimes you’ll
wake with this
and all of it is
true
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.