Thursday, 19 April 2012

secret: it's like

the ground from beneath my feet
the breath from out of my lungs
the muscles of my little legs lacking oxygen
my brain on a short circuit loop
my favorite song and i can't remember the lyrics
a guitar with no strings
peas without carrots
a comb without its teeth
stopping short of finishing
a teapot full of no more than hot water.

that trick where the magician pulls the tablecloth out from under the set table
except nothing stayed quite where it was.

a breath of fresh air
finding a twenty in the pocket of a jacket you were just about to give away
popeye's spinach
finding some music in the wind whistling through the forest
making a promise to your oldest friend and keeping it
taking off the stage makeup after the play is done
making peace out of pieces
opening the window for fresh mountain air
telling a story that's funny because it's true
showing someone their new favorite band.

No comments:

Post a comment