April 5, 2008

Poem 2 for April 3, 2008 – A Secret

A Secret

I spend most of my time giddy
happy with whatever hap pens
my story which does not happen to me
mesmerized as I am by windowsills
losing their paint as my hair its color
(the one as immediate to me as the other
I don’t take my life personally)
mentally I caress pinecones oil spots broken pens
I’m sentimental for the old oaken buckets
of the tech age rotary phones slide rules and the smell
of darkroom chemicals I love you too
dust ponds dragonflies CD cases
everything I’ve seen but it’s
a secret love a secret joy I don’t
even whisper a smile I don’t
want to share me with myself
or you with you

This started out to be another fatras (see the April 2 poem), but it went in a different direction. The content is closer to a true fatras in one sense, but a fatras is more joyful.


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