without place, without ability to make one.
2005-10-30 10:27 a.m.
these times, some essence spentthat i have been written out by people
with whom i've failed to maufacture contact,
and conflicting my beliefs
they knew me, a catagory
inhuman
this is the power struggle, that we will wear
histories out in repeating them, that we will
watch the dreadful falls our families have taken
and go diving back in.
we'll talk matrimony for a moment, of her
five different husbands who all had the same name
come down upon them, a curse in the seasons
positioned just to feel responsive,
but never close enough to get in.
those friends, when i was leaving
who told me i was bound to be my mother
could not have known the seriousness if this matter
or how it might play out
in absence, in the beds of many men
becasue there is no means to take, now, on it's way to knowledge
for i am inconsistent, and i have never been
a person, given to going under, never to resurface, i have spoken
in long and winding times, over rebirth and continual progress
but i am now forced, to my despair, to realize
that i am nothing like the truth i have professed.