found this one in the crypt...

I asked myself the worst question today.

what would you think?

not is it bad?
or is it safe?
or what might this make of me?
but
what would you think?

I settled back on my heels
thirty pounds heavier than you
five scars above you
twenty seven people more experienced than you

and it’s this question that rings in my mind like the bells of that old church near my grandparents’ old farm in Virginia.
this question that I can’t relieve my mind from
as I’ve been trying to do for some time now.

but, I thought about you this morning.
This same morning I told the mirror to go to hell and decided you were all that mattered.

you are
and you will always be

a rat.

and I’ll love you for that.

* * *

I looked in the mirror at each flaw, each freckle, each mole, each scar, tear, wrinkle, burn, crow’s foot, and the glass left in my eyes, which seems to have worn out its welcome.

all these tiny imperfections have somehow taken the stage as a walk-on role for each doughnut, each beer, broken window, minor altercation, lousy lay and parking ticket left unpaid.

'tis a sad and simple story, really.

and an awfully melodramatic one at that.

and I still have this question:
what would you think?

I wish I could bang you out of my head like some telepathic drum.
bang you out of me until there is nothing left
and we both have turned into something we can tolerate.

I see the piece of an imperfection on my left arm and imagine it transforming into a pair of shooting stars
and I imagine that these stars will teleport us both to some serene and ethereal plane
where love never tends to collide with hate
where floatation devices never detonate
and the idea of parallel universes
well, we have yet to properly invent them.
only we aren’t proper people.

just tell me you don’t care.
tell me I might mean some miniscule measure.
it doesn’t matter.
but, just tell me something
before I turn out too used up, worn out, burned out, fractured and broke.

I hear people all day ask each other questions.
what time do you have to wake up in the morning?
why didn’t you call me back?
what is the holiness of conversation?
can I have twenty on pump 4?
should I say something?
where am I going?
and where have I been?
don’t you know god is pooh bear?

still, my question is better.

What would you think?

12.19.2004