Sunday, May 06, 2007

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