December 29, 2008

December 29, 2008

December 29, 2008

We blow dry our hair at midnight

Trying to define what it is to define the definition of our condition.

Holy Communion doesn’t help much but we are relentless with our efforts.

Molded plastic and tinfoil make us giggle

In turn our efforts are forevermore futile.

So instead I have decided—

to write a story

A very long brooding story on how you look

At me and what I see

Because you know

a funny feeling              tells me I know better.

we  laugh at stream of consciences

No matter how despicable,

We all really do,

Say this or say

One day I will travel as far as you

can catch up.

I miss myself in you

I hope you can see that.

Making  visible isn’t  harder.          The hue fades

back to defining definitions

Naked, blow drying our hair in the dark.

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