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I need to go away sometimes
not too far
but just far enough
away
from you
and the others
the ones I love
and the ones I don’t even like
sometimes you feel too close
so I need to go away
and where I am going
doesn't matter
as long as it's not here
because here
is a room
with a filing cabinet
where I put my papers
in drawers, my records,
the paid bills and receipts,
the certificates and policies,
proofs of purchase,
here my name is stamped
and sometimes what I don't want
is to see my name -
where I need to go
is somewhere
unmapped
where I can fold
into the contoured landscape
as formless colour
from a desert sun
where I can heat
radiant sand
or melt snow
and isn't that what love is
another word for returning home
like chlorophyll
making flowers flower
making ant food, snake food
eyelids opening like petals
seeing again
for the first time
longing no more
for a place
of your own
knowing
you belong.
3 comments:
This poem is like a jazz composition. It starts off slowly, repetitively, I think even deliberately boringly, on a theme, and then revs up, and suddenly it explodes into improvisation. It's like vacation mode has kicked in, and all the mundanity of filing cabinets and papers is left behind and replaced with an "unmapped" landscape, where all kinds of crazy shit is going on! Suddenly there is energy(in the form of heat) and "radiant sand" and melting snow. Suddenly there is love. And suddenly there is imagination and Nature and creativity and revelation: "like chlorophyll making flowers flower making ant food, snake food eyelids opening like petals seeing again for the first time". Whew, it's breathtaking! Nicely done, bro!
Wow! What I said about you writing the introduction to my (unlikely) poetry book… I can always depend on you to let me in on what I’m writing about. Thank you can’t be repeated enough.
The feeling is mutual, buddy.
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