For so long

For so long
words would chatter through
or the clatter and slam

of an old school typewriter
would measure the music
of my rhyming

Even before I could smudge them in my hand
or dissolve them on my tongue
their sounds were fled

and the only sense they left
felt like a receding recollection
of love never quite cut out

No matter
And now I have no time
No ears tune in to this wayward reason

This subliminal song
slow as a house decomposing
sings waking up to god


Grant Duncan 18.03.07