it doesn’t want a title

& it feels awkward unwieldy it stumbles in places & considered excusing this claiming it is uneven by design but i couldn’t, isn’t. so it’s rough, a draft, oddly i did try to keep it quiet tucked away let it settle & breathe in peace. however that just wasn’t feasible.

oh yeah one more thing: twenty three years ago? driving down McKee Road in San Jose, on my way home from my night job. you?


have you ever mistaken an edge for the answer
jagged begging for more & more arrogant it
offers you perfect & solves you seduces
you follow you become
undone
it begins
in your eyes filled with
desire or fear & defines
itself in your image & only
exists in reflection
silent like questions
unasked leaving reasons why
traced in the mist
on the surface
fading
as last of your will
fails & falls through the mirrored
world without end
unrelenting
& you after all
unknown & still twisting
the truth like a razor blade rubik’s cube
& you play to lose blood & oblivion
begins in your eyes still
unanswered

& ends

7 thoughts on “it doesn’t want a title

  1. Sitting in class. Junior High. They announced it over the PA. A bunch of us spent the rest of the afternoon it one of the honors classrooms where the coolest teacher in the world let us sit and listen to tapes until school was out.

  2. Wait, is that right? Maybe it was the Reagan thing they announced at school. My memory loves to juxtapose.
    I do remember sitting in the class listening to Lennon and Beatles tapes, though.

  3. they announced Lynyrd Skynyrd’s plane crash over the PA at my high school — not exactly a John Lennon or anything, but people were still wandering around all stunned & sad & stuff.

  4. In rolled the clouds
    in rolled the thunder

    my loves gone
    my heart too

    why is she gone
    where oh where

    my heart lays bleeding
    my shoes are wet

    the rain washes away
    as I lay down

    in the ppol of my love’s lost
    crash of thunder

    I’m gone too.

  5. I was in junior high, i was in bed listening to the radio not wanting to get up in the morning for school as usual. I cried and my mom made me go to school. The last thing I wanted to do was face school.

    no cool teachers eased or acknowledged the pain, to my memory. I felt shattered and like nothing would ever be the same. and i don’t think it ever was.

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