Tuesday, April 8, 2008

pet poltergeist

You found me in the field
on the blanket he left in my trunk
where I wrote
alone in the park
at the mouth of nature
with the humdrum of the city
three feet past the trees.
I stay until its dark.

You have a cute smile
and a fine pair of eyes
I want to take you
home with me
I’ll paint your picture
and we’ll unmask your disguise.

Let’s go for a ride
Just for one night
Let’s go for a ride

I let you drive my car
I like your hands on my steering wheel
and the decisive way you manipulate the gears
so I stay silent when you pass by my house.

You play at playing at make believe
it's in those fine eyes
and the way you tease.
But I have these strawberry dreams
And anthills underneath my feet
And pockets full of weeds

And incoherence
And an inability to commit
was the cost of this disease.

I’d like to ask the man
who said it was ok to have dreams
what he was thinking
and how he sleeps.

The truth is
The real reason
I can’t commit
Is this

knee weakening, earth shattering
uncontrollable, unreasonable

Of becoming your pet poltergeist
placed on a pedestal
above your mantelpiece
where you keep all your failed relationships
and the keys
that open doors to nothing.

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