I’ve heard that hate’s a girl with pretty eyes
& I’m starting to think I’m just her type.
So now I’m chasing with my 26 shells
But have forgotten what to say,
how its supposed to sound.
Now, we both know what we want but
we’re both knee deep.
So now it’s not the same to me
and we’re lowering it seems.
And now, I’ve got something under my skin.
I thought this body
was my only old friend.
But now I’m dyin’…
In need of the aged spring days to lengthen,
The old earth to warm and soften, creek, expand,
my dog to wait impatiently in the doorway for me,
to wipe the mud from her paws
just to ball and scatter on our tweed rug or hard wood,
or hold—caked to the tufts of hair
between her black toes.
2 comments:
Hey Josh. I really liked the last stanza on this poem. Have you been reading much poetry? If so, who?
As far as the films go, if you can find anything by Werner Fassbinder, I think he is a bad ass. wiki him, he was a pretty wild guy. One of my favorite films is Paris Texas. If you haven´t seen that then I think you would really like it. It is made by Wim Wenders, and written by Sam Shepard... It is amazing.
this is poem is scattered bullshit, forced, with no emotion or vision except in the last stanza... so i'm glad you liked that one.
the only poetry i read is yours and mine; although i will stop to read whatever crosses my path as long as it seems to have little commitment. i don't really hunt for it. joe did get me turned on to philip levine, which i thoroughly enjoyed.
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