Everywhere I put you, you span outward again
I cannot place the breath sounds of your voice
Which seem to peter out towards the end
As if what sustained you was stopping short.
Some people make more promises than can be counted.
Some people don’t belong to a place on a map.
Some people carry their heart full of holes, unrepaired.
Unrepentant,
Unrelenting.
Don’t tell me it’s holy, as if you cared
As if I was some kind of reckless sap
Who could be turned cartographic by you, after you flouted
Every highway ribbon, unbolted the cavorting
horses on every carousel. As if to send
the breathless breath of every choice
Flying outward, placeless, never to land.
I was listening to the radio to this song which had these plaints alternating in emotionally stirred and relatively calm stanzas and I am intrigued by this frowsy discontentedness, shaken and stirred. How the posture of discontentedness seems to have permeated the field. So I played with this and the kinds of metaphors I have been encountering when taking in recent sung verse forms - all the while peeling the onion rhyme.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely MESMERISING. I loved the first paragraph. Reminds me of myself.
ReplyDelete"unbolted the cavorting horses on every carousel" nice & like the emphasis of "every"
ReplyDelete