With Gusto

They Respond

Tools in use, romanticized like bats
and dolphins, trees and plumbs --
cute little fuckers pushing onward. We got
five, maybe six, answers for our days; one for the hairs
dragged through the pores of tight blue jeans,
two for pornography (for you cannot smell it),
one for chips and one to gauge sweat floating past holes
home to hairs, noting release by the amount of pinpricks in the air.

After that the spaces between couches
and televisions, neighbors and neighbors
are filled with vacancies. Except when it rains,
like it is now: water ushered back through the gates; and houses,
those temporary roots, peel out from the downpour: a static blip
holding onto one breath, the stucco, a waft from the fireplace.
In response to number six: There are dead hands and fingerprints who
still feel the footsteps of those around them.

__________________________

very rough draft. I may work on it later, or I may just let it exist with the faults it were borned withy.

Posted by matty-b at September 21, 2004 6:23 PM