for Madeline Gleason
Maybe we were night
crossing bridges falling
down Maybe I am
sorry for eating your
melon on Tuesday and
not taking out the garbage
Today I am becoming
what I think is myself
or maybe you in a Hillary
Clinton costume now dancing
on a table with a cane
and the collected works
of Keats in you hand
What made you not one
but the circle around the sun
and the now of some other tale
If I push down on my stomach
If I am the vision
of another a new generation
than what is that globe
doing in the corner and
why did you die of despair
It is true that for the
most part I do not know
what makes us different from
super powers or thunder
Sunday, January 25, 2009
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Great poem in general, but that last stanza is incredibly well-managed.
ReplyDeleteI really like this... a lot.
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