Your flowers have been safe
for fifteen to twenty years
stories packed away in boxes
lining the ceiling of your home.
Forget that they catch your prayers.
Forget that they muffle your cries.
Forget that they block your path to heaven.
Keep those boxes full of
exes, letters, dresses, dreams,
pvc pipe, brushes, photographs,
recipes, lovers, and my best wishes.
Move them from house to house
to house to house to home.
Cross out the names,
change the labels,
mark everything as X-MAS LIGHTS.
My heart keeps rhythm with
the lights blinking on your tree;
One and Two and Three and Four.
Breathe.
Repeat.
9/26
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
I is for Inventory...
Posted by anthony at 1:20 PM
Labels: hands, hung over, imperceptibility, poetry, Project 26
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