Monday, April 7, 2014

so much is just behind
just lost
beckett lived when I lived
but never met me
nor wrote me
and his death i missed
in all languages

what is the word for
that
this
what wondering
squint for it
won't help
squint
see
other words for
waiting wanting waltzing
dance into songs
all recent
even roman songs
lost songs
hummed in a field
even the lenape
still alive
still speak umi
what words are those
but
never speak to me
never my name
not here
where they live
but i live

not in my carrot patch
the lenape
the chickasaw
my great uncle
or any other book of photos
with no names
family i can see
never saw me
wandered like moses
never saw eden

the tears
shed on the mountain
looking over new lands
are tears for what's
behind
where could you have stayed
in the desert
and not missed
so much

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