CAN YOU HAND-HOLD
MY HELD HAND?
When I was seven I already knew the numbers of all the
stars and planets. I knew to what sum everything added
up and I knew that what you come in with is exactly
what you go out with. I didn't need any cosmic riff
or comic bible to tell me things : all that lineage
begatting, and all those horrid names.
-
Now, it's so long later that everything is curdled and
hard - no meanings match, but yet I understand.
The sunlight shines back off the cars' crazy colors,
and I shield my eyes with my hand. That girl's white
dress is so sheer I can see - right through to the
figment of shape. I am an artist. I can get away
with all that. I look at the arms and the faces
I see - musculature taut, tendons and flesh.
-
I am already in paradise, and have one foot, just
as well anyway, set hard-down in Hell. Just in
case, be prepared, never falter, not look away.
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