Friday, August 12, 2011

white noise from the world's stage

white noise from the world's stage

not remembering
the name of it
the title
the reward
the application
he puts it on
thinks it on
moves all his thoughts
to the place
that will be protected
he calls it
and it comes
to him alone
slowly
he speaks it
aloud
to any audience
that might find him
he waits
for the floods of winter
buries himself
in withered growth
an immersed rattle
thinking
she might return
this thought touching him
as a wisp of air
to his mouth
it keeps him alive
in the torpor of autumn
his heart
a geode
of undetected splendour
his future
an uncertain wish
of erosion
hoping that
a wild river
takes his words
to her ears