heartbeats
13.08.2017
i see the power lines, red
light district lights blinking,
the turrets of wind farms
spiraling endless and how
the fuck am i supposed
to reach out and touch this,
this happiness, and know that
it is something i cannot keep?
here there is americana
upswept in dust, hot days
with nightshade and fire pits.
i will my camera to appear,
to take my mind’s eye photos
of railroad tracks and dirty boots
and the stillness of your face
when you fall asleep.
i want to remain in the space
where i hear your heart beat.
may i capture it in format?
can i paint it in straight lines?
i will sculpt a door in which
i may traverse to sometime
that this would be different
and i would be better. i would be
lots of things, anything;
instead this repeats.
i can loop too.
just not like you, not in
the magic way that i don’t really
understand, just like so much
about you, but i want it and
the echoes, the ghost doesn’t,
it doesn’t
it doesn’t matter to me.
2.11.2018 at 12:27:41
Nice way to capture the zeitgeist in that poetry, the promise of the future’s something that keeps everybody in suspense.
And you can just leave it at that, that not knowing leaves you at peace that you don’t have to control of everything and expect the unexpected.
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