to him who trusts in the wind

forgive me

my repetitions

of my memories:

a huge bowl of cherries

then plums, and grapes

too

and a tree, a plum tree

from which you plucked

the lilac full moons

and squished their skin

and departed their hearts

and spat them out

onto what?

you well know

the gravel loaded with sun

the rich green rolling fields

the spot where we lay

to pour some wine

dip some hummus

this image, is it mine

to keep alive alone?

the sun that knew no hurry

to set and the furry companion

who did know hurry

and the mosquitos mocking us

smacking our arms

while we immersed in conversation

you well know

how you spoke of virginia

the drifting boy

who without a friend

would play for hours in the forest

or spend all his pocket money

on chocolate bars

since there was nothing else

to spend it upon

forgive me, but do you remember

the werewolf who warned you?

warned you she'd kill?

you shall recall her teeth!

you shall recall the lighter you raised

to her extremeties to release the pain

after a buzzing army had dipped

into her bloodstream

one white dot after the other

stream, the stream of the danube!

may i remind you of the dizzying walks

speechless amongst one another?

you shook your head, bewildered so

"words, words, words"

they were your holy instrument

and never were you satisfied 

bouncing them off you tongue -

and now, your room!

always the carpet, the record player

my bloody valentine

then again vast silence -

lingering breathless -

then sleeping - then waking

'wake up and smell the coffee in vancouver'

perfected tea. black. sugar. fresh lemon.

there was no way without fresh lemon juice.

rivers, tehran, the heat, evil women

home and not home and dr. seuss

how can i hold these things

up towards the light and not collapse?

and how shall i move my feet on foreign ground

and pretend it's solid?

and how can i keep 

what is solely of wind

how can i keep

yet still move on