Archives for posts with tag: poem

but still it hurts I guess hurting means being alive and it’s what you do with it stuffing it kills you doesn’t it? stuffing your feelings kills you and you let it kill you because you can’t take the misery any more and you want out  all your hopes I just want us all to be together and be happy you said but that never happened did it  or it did but that was the night before the funeral and your body was cold in a box down the road jaw wired closed so it didn’t look like you that’s not me your voice said loud and clear when I wept at it that’s not me I heard I understood  we were together the night before the funeral we sat together and put music on sang along to it together your chair empty my brother with the baby on his knee we’d forgotten we hadn’t eaten for two days then we remembered and got a Chinese and demolished it me asking what was the last thing he ate? did he ever mention me ever? no   but he thought the world of you she said  yes he thought the world of you  we were together but we weren’t happy your body cold in a box  but we were united just for a while and that’s something  united in our shock and grief all together  yes before the funeral


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notes on a photographer capt 1notes on a photographer capt 2

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cut up oem teacher teach yourself capt



hand on escalator 2018
We are on the escalator

Going down

 You turn to look up at me

And when your eyes

And my eyes

Hook up

Notes so quietly sidle

In from all directions, gathering over the days

Getting louder

And louder

Until I say


Then the new music plays all the time

Day and night

And when I see you again

The notes change.