fun the week before
[Collaboration with AB, middle urchkin: her prose, my cuts.]
people keep
picking, the hand gets
stuck. don’t even
spike, don’t even care—
forgive and forget
we are not.
it's whatever,
it’s a large open space,
jumping with one
means the most:
one feeling, when
the prison you’ve liked,
when the prison you’ve kissed,
when he asked,
when it lasted
forever.
cry when it’s time,
when it’s trouble,
when it’s just
some lonesome kid
blaring and thinking,
more than I thought.
the heart still cracks
the dream some day,
at wit’s end,
in the season
of the grape—
people keep
picking, the hand gets
stuck. don’t even
spike, don’t even care—
forgive and forget
we are not.
it's whatever,
it’s a large open space,
jumping with one
means the most:
one feeling, when
the prison you’ve liked,
when the prison you’ve kissed,
when he asked,
when it lasted
forever.
cry when it’s time,
when it’s trouble,
when it’s just
some lonesome kid
blaring and thinking,
more than I thought.
the heart still cracks
the dream some day,
at wit’s end,
in the season
of the grape—
posted by murat11 at 2:16 PM
3 Comments:
"...some lonesome kid/blaring and thinking,/more than I thought..." Speaking of ephiphanies, that is one for a talented teacher, that glance into a studen'ts surprising depths.
Nice collaboration, Paschal.
The heart does still crack the dream. There are those days, yes!
"it's whatever,
it’s a large open space,"
isn't it just?
I love that.
San: no surprise on this one's depths.
ALT: It certainly is.
Post a Comment
<< Home