1/26/12

Fragment (of You, Draft #3)


How
many
words
for empty?
Expired
fruit,
voice dried
up, dead.
Here rests 
silence, ex-
pected, un-
wanted.  One 
conversation, 
reported, denies the
basest metaphor
no acorn, no 
surgery,
no vessel, no 
urn,
no bottle, no 
allegory
reside in 
or to 
dwell in what-
ever poetic house
needs create 
for this.  
Were you be-
side me,
think I’d fall in 
you? comforts, 
rest at 
breast, tear 
(which-
ever way 
read it works)
ripping a-
cross touch 
wipe (tear) gone.  
Think you’d hold 
me? the al-
most no-
things whisper bridge 
the place 
where waters 
yearn 
to meet (but 
it is, met, 
it is, already.)

Think this 
is how 
it’d go?  But 
no. You do 
not, not, not, go.
Despair, you 
stay, keep 
house, set 
up room, 
board, re-
pair stained 
cheap south
of my heart, ves-
sel while I 
cling at absence 
like some wait 
that won’t.  
What’s did 
to will but don’t?
We find an anagram 
of heart, or false
rhyme that we hold 
onto:  say:  hard,
or, whisper,
or, hold,
or, sorrow,
or, I miss you;
and “How can you?”
and it’s easy in lapse 
of you, this re-
lapse of 
you.  To borrow 
a simile
 - but no, 
an assembly -
of legions, 
but no; 
what space
there is be-
tween is 
not loaned to 
the whims 
of grammer:
keep an accent a-
bove the door,
and decree an 
ellipsis…to our stops,
ongoing 
for now 
for ever 
for 
more.
© 2012 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved

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