WHITE PALL
(for regina writing her exit)
but for the death of each word
it's this white pall of the page i must bear
white pillow of the page
that leads me to [poetry?]
luxurious open space
for my eyes to rest
~
quiet enough to listen
to see what's listened to beyond
nothing to do with thinking
~
a private language written in a secret handwriting
~
this strained white tension of silence
for my words to blurt
~
but how can i not help erase myself
in the ridiculousness of
ink the embalming fluid of
words the sarcophagi of
thought the death of
knowing
ridicule
~
what if by greeting each other
we speak poetry
what if our language upon arrival
breaks down into profound syllables of seeing
i mean seeing each other as an ecstatic first moment
and when we part
as if we'll never see each other again
~
inhuman and obscene
breaking the dreaminess of your morning thoughts
reading a newspaper
~
as seldom as i see you
your death with me is ok
i know you are always where you're supposed to be
our conversation continues
the look you give me continually guides/chides
~
stretched out on the beach
i am the horizon
stretched out on my bed of sand
cry of gulls rolling slamming surf
as the horizon i will also be forever
—Craig Czury
____
from IN MY SILENCE TO JUSTIFY, FootHills Publishing, 2003
http://foothillspublishing.com/pre-2005/id39.htm