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| drueck ueber hut toes gripping shoes shoes gripping th elinoleum floor tiles hands gripping shared arm rests we sat knuckles white tipped w/ pain white tipped w/ pressure white capped w/ a hat pulled down to hide the eyes to hide the dkeis made of flourescent sunlight squinted eyes fight the glare up ahead are tiled stairs which we must ascend when they call our name when we pry our fingers free from the shared arm rests glancing at the other guests whose fate is also in the hands of the crisp linen lady w/ the speaker phone in hand se ascend our fate determined we ascend uncertain but when we reach the top we know only that we will don crisp white linen frocks they will take from me my happy painting smock & my hat & we will grip the edges of the steel framed beds w/ the same ferocity as we gripped the arm rests & we will continue to squint under the glare of a flourescent sun its rays reflected in stainless steel sings & stainless steel bedpans for which we will receiv a reprimand if we forgo their use so we give in to the abuse & the stainless steel sinks w/ drains that radiate a kind of stink that is stagnant & stale a stink that makes sickly skin pale & courage fail there are stainless steel bars that bar us from sky & the real sun on high that laughs in the face of the flourescent abomination that laughs at our meager accommodations in this eternal hotel less bugs than a motel but not better food crisp linen covers are coarse on the bed & a coarse linen pillowcase will cradle our head when we decide to give in to slumber when we decide to take a number & get in line to rent teh sheep & the z's until then we can only stand on shaking knees on shifting ground under a shifting sky that bows down to a god in a switch on the wall & all else is a hall that leads to more rooms & more stairs & more skies lit w/ a flourescent sun reflecting on crisp linen clouds which we are not allowed to dream into fanciful shapes on which we are not allowed to make our escape or retreat back back inside & under inside & away inside & out & up & over from flourescent gods & crisp linen angels untitled poem every now & then i think back on people who i never thought about enough before i think on her & wonder what did she want from me? what did she get from me? what was this thing meant to be? did she get it & leave or did she just get up & go? i dont really know much of anythign anymore but i always wonder why people walk out the door w/o saying goodbye w/o saying why they went away in the first place why they came back in the first place why they came in last in this free-style race that is life in which we all have broken knees but no one can see that we are all crippled b/c we are all blind i wonder what the point of this whole exercise is & where the point of her eyes is & if shes looking at me or just pretending to see through me to see to me to see past me to see the last me that she knew before i came along to see the last thing that was true before i came along im not saying thats wrong i know i do the same thing i wonder why i get up & go & say im using the bathroom when its really the back door the back way out of this mess i wonder why i leave the table w/o ever touching my drink i dont stop to think that even if i leave theres still a glass full of me sitting on the tabel or falling to the floor as i walk out the back door i dont always give reasons why i dont sit down & stay so why should they? so why should i? so why ask why? ill just order my drink & think & try to get by she is she is a star from heaven a goddess among men the brightest flower is dull in her brilliance the loftiest bird cannot reach such heights as she her smile entrances my heart her eyes encompass my soul in all of creation none can hold a candle near the radiance of her beauty extinguishes all other light in her presence darkness falls away to reaveal Truth |