The Book Life

Spit

April 8, 2011
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It’s been wordless lately.

Not me. Just the music.

Words won’t capture me or this mood
and the string sounds
I cannot describe at all
just catch me, stop me,
leave me gasping or at least open mouthed,
fully figurative hands on either side of my face,
someone standing in front of me screaming
and my eyes full of tears.

An excess of feeling.
This is what ails me.
A lack of places to put it.
I need more containers
and sometimes the feelings
don’t fit into the poems.

Because I do not understand it,
cannot take it apart and cannot make it,
the string sound draws out what’s left in me,
bits too small or too awkwardly shaped to go anywhere else.
Draws them out with a straw and then spits them out
on the sidewalk for someone else to step in.