Oh and I wrote this poem in Gothenburg after the pitch.
A. O. 2011-01-29
"Your Morse coded gazes and fidgeting fingers trap me
your arms shooting out, your lips flapping
it holds me transfixed, the noise of your voice
as it cuts through the air between us
it reminds me of waves lapping,
I imagine them stroking
over my life-less body
incomprehensible and eroding
I stare at your lips and the glaze of your eyes
like watered down blood
hugging the edges of the pavement where I stomp
on a half-smoked cigarette butt, twist my foot
and grind the ashes into the cracks between the stones
I imagine that too
and you dancing, unnoticed
in the middle of the street
under a rickety umbrella that is snatched
by the wind as the rain turns to hail."
1 comment:
it reminds me of my dad when i was little.
whenever i got in trouble he'd just talk
and talk and i'd start out angry, but
he just talked you into this hypnotic
state until you're completely calm.
i really like it!
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