Wednesday, March 18, 2009

In Memoriam

Burnt and blasted in the morning sun
Today morning you spoke of her
You said she slit her wrists
And hung herself to finish the job
But, stop, let me confirm the breakfast timings first
I’ll just be a moment
They gathered on the street late one night
And spoke of unknown rituals and bass lines and highway trips
And, of course, the woman
“Time is my enemy”
Stop the hand, I want to touch it
Break it, reverse fate for a day
Swat that ant before it crawls away, quickly now
Do you know what it means
To not have spoken when I could,
when you were climbing up the stairs?
We haven’t met, but the darkness tonight
I will solely to you.
The ecstatic flashing of the night-light
I will solely to your demise.
The throbbing beat that threatens to rip
I will solely to your absence.

Ah the bleeding trip
We dropped and the finger jabbed at the beat
till I could hear
the wailing no more.

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