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Created on: August 20, 2009
Montreal is for Alzheimer's:
A scale, a scab, a cell-
something to flake
To scrape off and leave behind, forsake and try to forget
A need, a plane, a newness-substance and strangeness
An absent mind, a heavy loss, materials and conflict; interruption
Tracing back the paths that we never tread
Seeking the long gone and unrelated-things never possessed or processed
A single shoe, mate-less, curbside, garbage
To wonder, how do the things we know get so detached and misplaced
Why everything remains so detached, foreign-old and fresh
Cyclic: demolish, rehabilitate...fragments and rubber cement
A woman, a spirit, sings alone and this matters so we walk
Entombed, laughing, derailed-hapless and curious with doubt
All the strangers in prisms, dissected hues moving in egos and steel birds
In clouds, moving vans, stuffed with things that burn and places to see
To slide beads along the track, to tally up the hits
Tattooing the times on every inch of our failing skin, on pulsing canvas, on time
It becomes a poem, a song broadcasted to our heart's ears of the mind
A stronger muscle, a one that keeps, stores, and reconfigures
One to gnash our own selveswith rusty teeth
Causing scars that swell and shrink
With the clock's ticking fingers and the calendar's infinite chronology-
Ever proceeding, never receding, the avalanche of seconds, minutes to months
The want is greater than the breaking down
The need is smaller than the words expelled
The stomach is weaker than the truth
And the eyes are bigger than the windows of looking back
If we could be smaller, if our intentions controlled the zoom
If everything else could seem so much bigger-
Bigger than the dust beneath our ignorant steps
Bigger than the tile, the ice beneath our weight
There might be passive mouths to use and open chests to inhabit
And empty nooks to rest inside
But we are tired, sleepy with the paths we didn't take
Exhausted by the heavy words our receivers couldn't translate-
Words that couldn't find their way home
And reshape the maps we followed in the fog
In the darkness-
Such unknowing,our blinded fingers scraping walls
If only we could share the burden
Distribute evenly the pounds-
The pressures of toting the brightest torch we'll ever know-
Illuminating worlds that we could have
the life that we should share
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