Friday, March 6, 2009

7 images of the beach at night (mikrokosmos)

__tombs full of soundless bones,
__the heart threading a tunnel,
__a dark, dark tunnel:

______Pablo Neruda

untitled, Lina Scheynlus

another satellite. barely perceptible. an ant. darting.
space's bread-crumb. everyone soo hungry.
edges past something blackest black.
winks momentarily,
__and is gone.

my head is on a grey rock. perfectly smooth, time does that. eternity irons it all out.
the ocean is a lunatic, and mumbles to herself the mess she's gotten her hair in,
she froths at the mouth, and a thread of saliva finds my foot,
i look up a second, and close my eyes
again to sleep.

my bedroom floor, my hair, my bed, sand everywhere.
i bring my dreams home, and hang them out on a line.

- what about it? the air.
- why do you always do that with your chest?
- exhale?
- [laughs] no! (yes
- it's a prerequisite for being alive.
- no!, i mean, ya know...
- sigh?
- yeah
- there's less air than i remember. this worries me.
- what?
- huh?
- nevermind.

besides us a young couple sits. laughs. i see the red of their cigarette eyes.
i remember how i always feel left out of everything.
because i am.
i is soo small.
what about my i?
no, mine is different.

i hug my knees to my chest
watch a wave surround the rock beneath me
i am an island unto myself
i am a mermaid
(everything is black and white

half the moon, but bright. soo too bright.
nosy. wants to see everything.
the clouds won't go near it,
work their way around.
sclera to sclera we meet,
and i lose.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

you are my favorite adjective.