Things Worth Noting

Fred

come, let us go,

let us leave this place, this acrid empty place

ravenous moonscape, this Mojave, this Sahara,

this Death Valley with its wheels within wheels of dust,

which gives up hollow papery carcasses

as a token of its love. we can only be lost here.

there are no maps for this wandering unmarked trail.

we can only walk in wavering spirals,

covering and uncovering our own footprints.

hold my hand, my wrist, the hem of my shirt,

even though I can't lead us, I will lead us,

by the nape of my neck, by the way the sky unfurls

and the clouds twist in the wind, by the compass of straw

I hold here in my hand, by elocution, by echolocation

by calling and recalling our names against the night,

by the hard glint of stars, by the sheets of darkness,

by the sextant I can make with my fingers.

it doesn't matter really how we'll escape, we'll escape,

we'll unveil our eyes and see clearly,

read the runes on the palms of our hands,

we'll blossom propellers from our shoulder blades,

fall beneath the earth and follow the secret rivers,

sail a ship through the sand, we'll escape from here

build monuments from paper mache and yarn,

cannonade abandoned buildings with a fusillade of of seeds

tear down all your idols and bury them nameless

we will preach sermons to the wind, write our fables with a finger in the dirt

unfetter the wonderous and leave caution dangling in the breeze,

circumscribe a circle around the circumspect never to enter again,

and plant a forest of saplings upside down,

so their leaves anchor the earth

and their tangled roots web the sky

we will do what our hands find to do

and we will do it with all our might.

Labels: Fred

11/17/2008 02:18:00 AM

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