BEFORE I GET
Before I get to forgetting again I
want to bring that horse home and
lace up the shed and feed him some
oats and then leave. But the technical
notion behind all this work will soon
disappear : gel on a rooftop, like light
in a light-box, seeps out and goes away.
We're left wondering why - the scarf
around my fingertips freezes, and the
pale moonlight goes from dark to bright.
-
Damn again the latch is rusted : every
other rainfall slams it shut. Maybe I
haven't slept for days and that's the
reason; though it shouldn't really be.
-
Though it shouldn't really be.
Though it shouldn't really be.
Rosemarie Hesperion please
come home to me.
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