242poem

July 3, 2011

Go ahead, point to a cloud.
Tell me what debris to pull from its lungs.
Order me with memos I can memorize
and I’ll amaze you with my efficiency.
You’ll be surprised how often little treasures
fall from thin air when the ripe buttons about you
are massaged with hooked come-hithers,
strategic kisses in key moments—
Your languid obey is so convincing
that I’ve begun to wonder who’s in charge here:
my arm reaches for the sky but it’s you flying
the streaking stars I knock from its branches;
the wholesale of my halfness is put to market
but it’s you buying out the store, smiling
when you come back to me full of glow.
You see light while I fumble in the darkness;
you click cardiovascular when my machine breaks down.
The flash that inflames you is my greatest work.
Tell me to do what you want me to do,
tell me what you want me to want,
tell me so I can ride that cloud too.

LOCATION: Buenos Aires, Argentina – Remembering.

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