3.19.2008

the air does not hold memory or voice

it is hard to tell where my hands are
the cloud coverage hides shadow.

i have accidental dreams of fish, murder
and native americans. photography bores me,

literature bores me, vanished kidnapping victims bore me.
i have been to the same parlors you frequent, i know

that while i was dreaming you were gathering mushrooms
to poison my soup. you are getting close to me

so that murder can ensue.
the air does not look like you at all.

i have to stop looking at the trees though, they are expressive like
your face. you do not need to raise your eyebrows

so much. i get it. i get it.
things i know, i repeat

the hot air balloon: neutral, wiped of memories does not remind

7 comments:

matthew savoca said...

i have to stop looking at the trees is hilarious.

i like this poem a lot.

Megan said...

i am looking at your blog because i miss you. boo.

TheNeez said...

Why do I get the feeling that this particular post was inspired by me? Photography...being bored with everything...murder...etc.

My apple is calling.

--- said...

im bored post something else

Kathryn said...

okay

LL said...

hi i don't know you but i like you, is that weird? no, people do that all the time. people like movie stars, after all.

Kathryn said...

wow is she comparing me to a movie star? i am going to pretend she is.