Comment on this
article
Before Now
by Flor de té
Now
To: Dulcinea
at whatever spot
our naivete has
and will still take us
I
over fifty years ago
in Manhattan
Ted Jones yells at me
let the man breathe!
a few years ago
up by Sacramento
the man
runs a fifty-miler
with me as his pacer
on the trail we run
past the wounded scene
from Gone With the Wind
runners on the ground
unfinished
we do
II
I am
this man's vitrine
I contain a comb
from a Spanish conch he gave me
a brooch of lapis lazuli
a fired brown horse
a brown agate ring
from a stone
he tumbled for me
I contain from him
a bracelet of jade
Arizona turquoise
a stained glass mobile
III
In New York
I fall
for a table
at a walk up
for the candle
on top of the table
inside
a ceramic bottle
for the candle's gnarls
flowing
down
the
torso
of the bottle
thick
colored
paraffin
IV
I fall
for posters on walls
by Miro
Kandinsky and Klee
for Sartre's
Being and Nothingness
Hemingway
Jackson Pollack
my favorite Stein
I ask her
would he have me
if I ask him
if I ask him
would he have me
V
today
he asks me
would you like
your first cup of coffee
in your cup
tall in ceramic white white milk
a flat teaspoon of instant exactly
your second of today less instant
your first
of tomorrow?
Return to:
©
2001- 2013, Quill & Parchment
Productions
All
contributions are copyright of the respective authors |