http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory
http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion
WITHOUT YOU,
George St. Heartbreak II
I am sick with rheum and aches,
And a congestion of the lungs.
I cough constantly.
Insomnia stains my eye sockets, like charcoal,
And, for the first time in my life,
I actually look older than my real age.
Years ago, when a child,
I read auguries in the snarled pattern of clouds,
And practiced divination in how snow
Accumulated to subtle differences of height
On the post rails surrounding the corral.
I watched the frozen breathe of horses,
Looking for some hope of bliss but abstracted
Solely gloom and heartbreak.
Today, desperate and preoccupied, I try
To pick out the future from the way
Antennae wire twists against the white walls,
And falls up and down
Along the molding in my bedroom.
All omens promise bad luck.
My mind has fallen into moat
And bad mood has dungeoned me.
I keep to the apartment all day,
Flipping over playing cards,
Looking for my destiny every time,
A queen of hearts appears from the deck.
It's going okay tonight, not too bad.
"Stanley, don’t be wearin’ that stickpin
Opals are always considered unlucky!"
My luck isn't very good as it is.
I don't think me wearing an opal
Changes the out come of life that much.
No eulogy for this affair of heart.
No photographs left here for me to remember us.
I see no people down the street to witness
Me drive off in the Ford alone.
Rain and cold, happy couples walk the avenues
Huddling close, tight, one to another.
Your name has been deleted from the speed dial.
It has vanished from my computer screen.
I guess these musings are the closest
It may ever come to a biography of us.
I must wonder if this whole fantastic romance,
I once imagined, amount to no more, now,
Is it footnote in this big book of my own?
No children will be named for us,
Not that you wanted it anyhow,
The children being named after either you or me.
No admission will ever be charged
For entrance to the home where we once lived,
Spoke ardently of love one for the other,
And I tempted verse to celebrate us for the ages.
And despite all the noise coming from the street,
All the appointments I have to keep this evening,
I can only lie on the floor and look to the ceiling.
The light is going out of my eyes.
Some people lust after every thing.
Lots of people crave more than fair share.
I, I just want you, your love, dear,
And while life goes on without you,
I am feeling increasingly impoverished,
And have fallen into awful ingratitude,
A grand poverty of spirit,
Like some refugee forced to flee his home,
Abandon his bed and kitchen utensils,
I know the analogy rings false,
Wrong to venture such outrageous comparison,
But sitting here alone,
It’s as if God has left me nothing at all.
No comments:
Post a Comment