9.8.11

dear diary,
here i stand with my hand in your dirt
just do what you can to erase me.
the frozen hours jumping through days, weeks, months with no end, no beginning
and one day or another, you and i will arrive in
euro trash pastiche candy land and your bags will get stuck in
customs and we will wait five years before i come to collect them with no trace of you but
that cigarette burn on my arm, the one thing you left me before
diving into the ocean with those weights attachted to your naked feet
the only thing you ever let go.
(ten months since they found you, ten months without an end, without a beginning)
jellyfish jellylegs jellybrain (i tape my ears now)
and
the most horrible of voices wavering with (cover them)
ecstasy. can you hear me
from the moment it started:
flowers of every kind, your funeral face drowning in petals.
orchids jades hyacinths long stemmed roses, stiff and cold
you could never stop running, tidal waves breaking in the sullen corners of your mouth
and the tiny house on top of the hill still standing
empty. tell me, would you have
looked after my garden,
would you have cared for
my peonies,
would you have
taken this magic
outside of me.
(in the hotel lobby, the ancient porter like a clock tower.)