Are You Receiving?


Hello Nobody.

    Hello Morning,

            once again,

                self-stung prophecy teaches me to begin

                not with words but distant landscapes.

            How are you turning-

                        away,

                            a    way,

                        on my way

    to a half-formed violation of this code of silence.

    Excite my tongue, which tripped on a burning flag.
Tipped my hand too soon so now you see all of me, free of charge.

    No more to demand, no more bent passion lounging on my sofa,
only sober, well-lit speech that breaks into the story before the ending is in sight.

    Foresight unknown, unholy distance snaps me in two.

    There's a race, on and on in my brain,
    into the woods and along the cobblestones -

     A life, an ode, a touch disarming,
     naked, blisters burst on tiptoes through this storm.

    Joy well charmed, joy well armed so calls to me, sometimes alarming.
    I am always falling down the well where go the pennies from Heaven,
    where reach my curses as I lay down, deep down, gone to ground and bluebells    dreaming.

    Seek and you will find but do not lift this rock. Things will come unstuck.
    Just tenderly, merely mourning, start to speak, in me -

            Reach to me,
            accept this time may alter
            as alteration fits the journey home.

            It's lonely, a black hole sunset.

            Damned

                        when,

                                    when,

                                                whenever…

    Don't think the line is anywhere but at my feet.
    Drunk again, when I should be inside myself,
    a better self that knows the where and the who and the how.

    I do not know so I will stop by your place,
    knock twice on your door.
    No fanfare, we'll live to leave,
    well stitched by freedom's song -

    No more of this quiet separation,
    indignant meals of propriety
    and your precious painted frippery.
    I'm stripping off the old, yellow wallpaper.
    Green is the new black, don't you know?

    I float a theory of my evolution,
    long suspended between the tears I cannot shed
    and the note you left me saying that you didn't mean
    for things to get this way.

            I am
            committed to waking up
            on an altogether different day.

- Kate White