Friday, December 28, 2007

Why I Love Poets...
Dear Leny,
I bring everything that touches me to every poem, which includes you, so consider yourself in mind when this poem was written.

We were talking
when the lights came on
about the odds
for an act of grace
in a world
governed by the inexplicable
and beset by
inexhaustible suffering
with understanding
compassion and love
the only reputable
revolutionary capacities
opposing our readiness
to destroy
what annoys us
while she skips
down the street
in Manhattan
singing aloud
openly refuting those
deaf to life
the musical
a true story
precipitating the decision
to pursue
what captures my attention
at the baseline
of regeneration
and at about 9:30
on September 17
while chopping wood
and carrying water
knowing anything for certain
not with a bang
or word of farewell
and for a brief time
went unreported
the absence
when discovered
at first disturbing
cause and effect suspected
whether forever
or a while
now saturates everything
effervescentand warm blooded.

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