Friday, August 31, 2007

on the Northern Line

She would've let me..

and so here I sit on the Northern Line,
surrounded by people,
but smiling anyway
as I think of her
and wonder if she knows...

that knowing that I could've

is almost as beautiful
as if I had.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007


I cling to the fading scent,
& get the sense of an atmosphere
similar to that of
trying determinedly to chew the last pockets of flavor from
a piece of greyed gum,
and, again, the world has mirrored the external to the in,
creating a perfect metaphor for itself.

Is it really time that this was spit out?
And if it is, who is at fault for this atrocity,
this robbery of the beauty
and peace
and light
and direction, which I remember now,
which cuts through the tiredness & desperation it has
to give me a glimmer of a reminder,
of a hope, and bewliderment...
like the eroding of the gum’s commercial, bright beginning,
leaving only the industrial grey
of the lesser mentioned ingredients…
is that really what we are built on?
or have we just been chewed to death?