untitled

we are being pulled along this worried frantic manic current
navigating with all the other bobbing heads
through the streaming headlights

in a becalmed sea I could have been marooned by silence

I have been the emotional mainland I say and I hear my voice as though I am not the one who speaks

the shoreline
is subject to change
the weather
the bloody endless changing tides
i am always

giving
always giving and conforming to the changes
losing parts of my self in the process
uninventoried
i believe I will come back later to recollect myself
but the current never, ever reverses

maybe what we get to keep is the stuff of dreams that
elude
these things which we thought we were lucky to have escaped
that stuff which has imprinted the pillow lines on the face
visible
even after coffee and subways have been
played through
left in the backwash

maybe that is all we get to keep
everything else is swept away in the bustling current

there are things that make you want to stop and look and and touch and examine each one
and carress the soft cheek, inhaling and memorizing it
to incorporate into your own version

but there is no time for that
your attention is diverted
wrenched away

and damn i have hit a snag like
seaweed that is caught in the rocks
or does it originate there

and there is always another storm at sea

whadya want for dinner and
I need some money to replace the book I lost

it wasn’t mine

it wasn’t ever even mine
it wasn't a part of that dream