The Night I Got The Idea For The Movie: Long After The Fall Of Communism
I woke that night under a porch and looked
into my neighbor’s yard, watching his sailboat
empty and then fill with sparrows.
The moon had just repeated itself much
to my embarrassment, and my hair felt like
expired insurance.
I walked into a garage and reached
for a cigarette just as it reached for me.
Then I sat on a riding lawn mower,
smoking, knowing
that if I weren’t here I could be anywhere.
You wanted to call me, I know, after you heard I ran
naked through a stoplight chasing a herd of deer,
but you sent a letter instead, to the country
of million year rains, to the bedroom
I haven’t slept in for years.
I just wanted you to know that I finally got that letter,
and that I’ll read it someday, because it’s so soft.
|
|
