Posted by smokeymadison on July 4, 2005, at 15:33:05
Leaving
A stuffed suitcase perched atop the full-size bed
As if leaving were a chore, a task to be
Reckoned with and broken down into neat,
Manageable parts like those rough wooden blocks
I once played with on Sunday afternoons when the sky
Burst and buried the sidewalks with mud.
But I remember the stamp of 1908 at the end
And how the wind swept through the leaves
Like crackled tissue paper thrown out after the party.The chipped china has been thrown out in the dumpster
At the end of the parking lot along with the broom and coffee pot
That once brewed its fine blend straight from
The Starbucks on the corner that I passed
Everyday on the way to class under the Georgian
Brick clock tower that chimed out songs at the hour.
But I remember how the apartment stank of smoke
And how the cats played, oblivious to the departure of everything
Recognizable and familiar in their small world.The moving truck has been rented and is parked outside
Where neighbors gather and gossip about why two students
Would leave in the middle of the term passing lazily into spring.
Inside, two lovers sit on the floor of an empty apartment
Around a flame that magnifies within their faces
The fear and the strain that only a looming departure can bring.
But I remember how we argued, how we fought those last few days
And shouted profanity in the middle of the restaurant
And how the people turned to stare as if we were fifty.We pass into the night, strangers to each other
That hurts like Japanese water torture, each drop
Falls on the scalp waking us into the nightmare
That is very real and here and grabbing hold of our
Hearts, wringing them dry like I once rung
The tuna salad with the towel at work while stoned on codeine.
But I remember how we made love in that apartment
And how we inhaled each other like we were 10,00 feet
In the atmosphere and falling, falling, falling, towards the earth.
poster:smokeymadison
thread:523373
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/write/20050621/msgs/523373.html