Old Friend
we sat on her back porch
and watched the blue light of tv emptiness
afternoon heat crippling the fading sky
and I don't even know if she's still alive
we rode back lanes some nights in her jeep
Ani singing 'my pussy is a tractor
And this is a tractor pull'
her favorite song - so loud and messy
in the rotted out shadow of farm land
and it's no secret in need of telling
she was this thing come undone
years in the unmaking
a blind feel for the needle
but nothing to mend
disappeared into her collar sometimes
the words didn't elude her
they were just too heavy to say
but that afternoon
we sat thick up in silence
drinking the whole damn red letter town
one painful gulp at a time and the heart so still
are you alive, somewhere - I need to know
would it have mattered
if I knew just what to say
to take that pain away
there were, then, as now, no words
no words
no words
no words.
Woman Sewing -- August Macke
Woman Sewing -- August Macke
No comments:
Post a Comment