Saturday, September 06, 2008
I smoke a joint of salvia
and go for a stroll
round the hood -
kicking a stone down the road.
It goes this way and that,
but remains in my foot's control
till it spins off into the grass
and I let it go.

The moon is about half tonight,
I can see it through my window
as I right now write.
Around its rim
there are bands of purple and blue.
I don't need the salvia to know
this is true - the moon often has
a sliver of a rainbow girding its edge,
sometimes orange and red.

(I share this secret of the moon,
at risk of destroying the secret -
so you know the stakes.)

I'll admit to you
that I walk and think only of him,
asking him tender questions in my head -
of course, getting no reply.
I... well, no...
I can't confess my sin
but my feelings for him
make me cry.