Marry me. Then forget me.

a love poem in E-flat.

 

 

 

Knowing the velvet panther

landscape on my living room wall

as great art, should serve as no

solace to the dancers of Degas. I'm

the great nude this morning, after

fighting, for what seems like hours,

for the sunrise.

 

Ok.

Nothing will scare you more

than writing poetry; more than wanting

the ghosts of reason dug up.

 

Well,

I thought it might be love, the way it

hung off me like the pearls of Sheba

in that uterus play where Hale Selassie is

still god. Don't be alarmed. It was just

the stitching of ten million quilts caressing my

bald spot. How it had grown too large,

so shockingly conspicuous,

this Heart.

 

How I would drag it around as one might

a bag of gypsy corpses, after the sore night.

Wanting pleasure is to meet it half way

in a Mid-western snow drift. It's the essence

of happiness, one would think.

 

Far too artesian to stay lit

when the dew from your wet hair

consumes what's left of

life.

Reviews

[K. Louis]

Oh Dana...

:) *Nods head* Yes!

[Corset]

"Throughout history, it has been the inaction of those who could have acted; the indifference of those who should have known better; the silence of the voice of justice when it mattered most; that has made it possible for evil to triumph."
– Haile Selassie I


Some one once told me that women are evil, if we are but a rib from this great evil what does that make of men? You, whomever you are, are something to be studied with admiration and great interest, if only for your poetry alone. Luckily, you have bumped into resilience, marriage has always been the joining of two "things" Love and truth...without both there is no marriage...except the marriage of minds.

[Shmoke-Sifted Heftlande..]

a number resembling irrationality of the linear variety..i couldn't have chosen a better skeleton key and I wouldn't be that presumptuous; I'm far to lazy to ever ride my bike near your ball park
but I'm witnessing the elegance as I lay in bed and turn my samurai ceiling stain sideways and attempt to prep my pineal gland for inter-dimensional travel with existential de-calcification
I guess a guy with burning herbs and a makeshift drum can exist simultaneously as those involved in an intense philosophical discussion in russia
this reminds me of ginsberg in his prime while dylan handed the beatles their first american joint and it contributed to beatle john's polarity role playing during rubber soul
that place in the middle of the brain that "hitler" figured out you could control through the water supply
I wondered how scared we were before that..probly scared for different reason and in different ways
I'll get back on this point when I read it a few more times and let the beauty of it toss my feeble consciousness around
well done as usual, dana