I read her bones like oracles
scour random records
newspapers old books
looking for
fingerprints her trail
living in time:
light with characters
trying to make a personal link
the children thought she was a witch
any hint of her passions
could tell me what life is
who else have I to learn from
who else could tell me
how to live
touring the self:
I have no answers
I come here under the barrow
laughing deadly earnest
I ask myself how I am
knowing there is no state in this world
known as happy
why do I insist she must
have been happy
knowing the girl:
the words sing in the brain
we know her by blood
my head full of stories
I've lived thinking
waste not want not
this is the only life
such a burden so I'd better live it well
feeding the darkness:
the leaping thing that sputters obscenities
useful wives
glory gone to mud
if those that love you tortured you
how should I then live
if you bullied yourself
if you coasted insulated
and thoughtless
how
loving the outlaw:
getting used to harm, a pure
and violent hatred of the lies we live by
words do not smuggle cheaply
I live at the usual speed
dying not any faster than average
as far as I know tooth and nails
hanging onto this life
creating it searching for her
living the hard life:
nearly crazy with sorrow
she wonders who will have her
it is herself she guards
Red rover red rover I wonder
what I am surrendering to
I call her over
learning the powers:
cruel mother
she knows our face
a home for my imagination
images/remnants/voices
holding them close
There's life in this:
I write her down
out of these fragments I build her
out of these scraps I construct myself