Thursday, April 27, 2006

Frames

How ridiculous,
flowers sprouting from every crack,
colors making mockery of the street;
it's bright like no one dies.

I come back to his grey face
parched with longing
like he wants to be human again.

Someone out there is claiming their siesta,
and somewhere they gather like every night.
I have my dinner with them
on a separate table,
though they cannot smell me.

The hallway opens wide and long again,
nothing but a vision of myself
and frames still waiting to be hung.
We could never make up our minds
what to feed them.
And it's not becoming to hang
an empty frame.

The yellow one sits empty still,
staring at every snapshot that could be.
Passing, passing, passing,
like the days I have left
to spend with her,
their finiteness killing God
every time.

5 comments:

katy said...

come back to his grey face
parched with longing
like he wants to be human again.



excuse me for letting this remind me of just how adorable snuffy can be, i know he's been abnoxious for attention with w away, but goodness me, what a cute cat!

arch.memory said...

I know... I wouldn't write about him if I didn't love him this much! :)
(He says hello to you!)

Rami said...

I am becoming addicted to reading you, this one is very beautiful.

Mar said...

I've been reading your poetry for over a year now. This is my first official comment. I'm always moved by your words. You're simply brilliant!

arch.memory said...

Rami, Mar:
It might be ridiculous how much your comments meant to me, but that doesn't make them any less precious. Thank you. Very much.