Tuesday, January 26, 2010

remote. control?

Sometimes I forget my name;

and my place.

I see manicured fools

slyly check their reflections in shop front

windows.

Like thieves, successful in their art.

Keep smiling you smug bastards.

 

Time and again I forget my voice;

but not the idea.

I see these songbirds

gossip and scheme

I open my mouth and the sound is exiled

before it exists,

 an unplanned child from an unplanned kiss.

Keep on singing you birds of prey.


Too often I forget my face;

my space, 

my time,

everyday is a distant re-run

from a distant VCR.