Thursday, April 07, 2005

The Rules of Engagement

I know the reason they exist
but the invitation to transgress
doesn’t settle well with a nature
that craves disorder. What is the
power of rupture when it comes
to death? Who’s counting then?
Corrections made, comments collated
and still it’s multiple.
The future is a gated city of domes
and arches without right angles.
They don’t withstand
the pressure of high wind,
the kind of wind that travels time,
and leaves no trace of the past.

Overcrowded. Full memory.
The Year of the Tiger Lily.

The parameters of solitude are constantly
in flux. I am alone in my cubicle,
I am alone with you, I am alone when alone.
I am alone on a subway, I am alone
with God. I am alone when reading,
when sleeping, when listening to Bach.

I ran backward to touch him.
He ran forward into history.
Only the improbable image
of the parallax
coincided with both.

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