Saturday, November 14, 2015


I've forgotten how the heart skips a beat, 
how the tender lambs become the lions, 
and how the children keep trying to see 
with innocent eyes. It's all overloaded
for me. If you can't have the modern world
and all its wonders, then you can't have this.
Sitting in this can of worms, the sweet little
thing brings me coffee. Her name says
'Chawana', whatever that is, but I decline
to invite her for dinner. I'll sit here alone instead,
dipping my pieces of bread to this olive oil in
the small plate she's brought.
This book in my hand is telling me things :
how some things are 'superlative' and others
are 'comparative'. A grammar for the heart, and
something new to elicit scowls and frowns -
and all those things I've already forgot.

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