A rash of desert, a wave in a mirage, a slight incessant sound – I might, but don’t think I can remember, what one thing, is already another thing entirely. Is she a dancer somewhere else; a hint of perspiration on someone else’s lips?
Sparkle flash store window late night – shopping for which tap of whose shoe on what pavement – this street or the next – chameleons and geckos indifferent to snake ssss stare into star cold frigid air – my internet head, my eye TV, my ipod ear…straining.
She, he, you, or I – innocent; living out family strategies; hoping that an announcement will slip itself under a door, and tell us where an edge worth jumping over for lives…and make no mistake – a frog, a rabbit and a kid will jump at any chance to be loved.
And the souls – your soul, my soul, all souls burn energy remembering, or are trying to remember a whisper, the one before birth – what was said, by whom. How are you or I, or is any one else supposed to respond…to what we may never have ever even heard?
(This entry was first posted on November 12, 2007)