Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Hello again - Steph - you and others might regret you helped me with posting things here - but here is Ex2a and 2b, untold story & poem addressed to self. See you tomorrow. -AK

Nervous song

There is the glass of water set
on the piano. The pause in the music

and the trembling of the hand. 

Nails tap tap tap on the glass. Again.

They make their own nervous

song. Trying to drink is impossible.

There is a young one and an old.
A changing of the guard right here

behind her back. The old one,

sincere in his promise to his daughter’s

foot to keep it callous-free. She knows

that, but she is the age of the young one.

There is eye contact. There it happens.
She dashes from the room, up the stairs.

He runs after. Her insanity. He takes her

to feel the dampness under her dress,

her struggle away. Once he has calmed
her trembling, her fold into him.

Note to Self

There might be the unchallenged sailing license.
The unfinished thesis. The mountain of Catalan

To scale. There might be the pending manuscript
And the trip to the doctor to make. An operation

In the offing. Possibly. Clear nights of sleep left
To conquer and deep structural change to endure.

And so what.

No comments:

Post a Comment