I sit before flowers
hoping they will train me in the art
of opening up.
You might be poor, your shoes might be broken, but your mind is a palace.
Soon, We Will Give In A student studying a great Like a truck packed with explosives permanent company of one another.
The Commander says even if you think
it’s God crouching on all fours—shoot him.
You practice entering a building
knowing that in the near future the ruin
will remember the house.
text, you learn that love is like war
and war a case of amnesia—each an
argument against faith.
And so you turn away
from the open window, the street below
jingling like new money, and a heat that
never subsides, thinking that it would
have been better if you had two lives and
could start over in the next one
strong enough to have your own way.
the Commander says that: what the world
will take it will keep on taking.
A detonator, a timer, a fuse
we deepen into each other, knowing we
have entered that small, accidental
Soon, We Will Give In
A student studying a great
Like a truck packed with explosives
permanent company of one another.
i have been here
before and after
but never forever;
that is a place
i saved for you.
I am not a person to say the words out loud
I think them strongly, or let them hunger from the page:
know it from there, from my silence, from somewhere other
than my tongue
the quiet love
the silent rage