One Dot Below the I (#2)
#6 of Poetry
Three more poems
AND HERE'S AN OLD MAN WEARING SUNGLASSES
AND A GIRL IN A PLASTIC RAINCOAT WITH A HOOD
HERE IS THE MAN WITH THE SUNGLASSES NOW WITH HIS CANE
AND THE GIRL IN THE RAINCOAT, NOW FADING
AND HERE'S YOUR OLD FATHER BENEATH THE TREES
AND YOUR LOVER'S FACE WASHED AWAY BY THE RAIN
I FEEL
- YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE. DON'T YOU?
I HAVE MY MEMORIES, MY FILM, MY IMAGES, MY MONITOR
BUT WHERE DID HOME, WARMTH AND MY LUNGS GO, MOTHER?
MY STRENGH HAS LEFT ME SO HOLD MY HAND
I DON'T FEEL AT HOME IN THIS MOMENT, NOT AT ALL
THROUGH THE OBSERVED THE EYES DISAPPEAR : EIGHT
POEMS PUSH INTO AN IRIS THAT NOTHING OBSERVES
THE PAST PRODUCES EYES BUT TOO LATE, DAMMIT
MUCH TOO LATE: THE VISION NOBODY HAS
1)STUDIES HIS PUPILS IN THE WRITTEN
2)STUDIES THE WRITING ON HIS PUPILS
3)SETS BY WRITING AN EXAMPLE AND
4)EXPRESSES HIMSELF BY COINCIDENCE