yellerbellied

been looking backwards today and yesterday. been twisting up my insides every afternoon in a studio. my teacher said its good to do the core work--it gets your insides all smoothed out; untwists your sadness.

i looked at your photos tonight because i could and looked especially for your hands. i can't remember why i hated them. did i ever? do i? there was just something off, you know. the nail was too short or the joint stunted; much too feminine although the knuckles were good. i just couldn't say. either way, i wanted to write you to say i'm sorry for that year, but i'm coward, you know.

i won't tell my mother my sister's secret either because i'm a coward. my insides are true yellow.

a voice from the heart

From the heart a voice commands: believe
in that already dishonoured word justice.
The distant heir of the lion
must rebel against his captivity.

There is a way. Its destination springs
from the wild primeval forest of memory.
There is also a microbe
that carries the toxin of a millennium.

Then if you search for suffering's meaning
become its revealer
and hear how grandfathers awaken sons
like stormaxes against the bronze of bells.

There is a way. So climb, stride,
kick away the perpetual stumbling block.
Death pardons every error,
but slavery it never forgives.

Vilna
Seymore Mayne 22 July 1941

insincere

the problem with me is that i never
admit i was wrong.
i repent & cry at your feet when you
find me out
collapsing beside the bed, instead of on it;
please,please believe me!
but by next month, i will not remember my own remorse.
i am not sorry.
yes, i did that & it was real & good.
i'm not sorry, i don't take it back
i'm not sorry, i'd do it all again.
it is only in the thunder of the moment
when you scorn me cold & angry, i am sorry.
i am only sorry for the way you
look at me.

arthritic

so unearthly cold and grey, monday. looking out the window from the fifth floor of the lang building this afternoon was dark and unpromising. robin had a headache and gave it to me.
--what are your symptoms? i said
--like a bad hangover plus food poisoning. he said. yes, exactly.
today looking out that window, i wanted to knock down the red brick walls across the street to let in more sky. but the sky is just bleak and mean, so why should i bother?
winter is setting in, slowly sinking down through the streets; i can feel it in my knees and hip bones because they crack when i walk and my ankles ache when i sleep. its a different feeling than summer heat or humid rains pouring through to make elbows and joints ache. it is a cold that claws at ones bones and is irreverent of layered clothes.