amy: long jump

long jump lovers (4/15/97)

she paused herself in a medium where

i am voiceless
afraid she said of my persuasive powers

she avoids discourse on the issues
inevitable sadness stemming from language

explaining another useless infraction
stress takes itself out on my body now

as i grip tools
my writing write back stunted some

i am freer now, falling
starts an unfamiliar and experienced descent

into passable madness.
friends will step up some, other nexts

i dawdle some in vindiction regret and dream
i deserve everything and go does she
i am even provoked to force

i will set myself free from this information

our spawn is that only and self-destruction
what of possessions? of the savage mess vision between
my mourning is anger
verging on impotence
i am left w/out recourse when people make me smile or try
i want grace to let her go peace
but i am bitter sad, for dreams

at least i can blame myself than
leave her an unwitting participant

or even better a powerish pawn

persuaded to date me beyond reason
so far away, communicae
what is left but this art

we made, like children so much so short

our small house teeming with our union reminders

soon it will be on the market

pieces to go for new families

up for adoption, better just different parents
i am too wraught when i don't respond right

as i know how
patterns of actiopn got ne here and now
i can only write to relief-veil my petty intentions
and describe for posterity the minutiae of my

course of cognition in a tender state
saddest am i that i miss her already

and i might be jumping the gun
the familiarities are hers to claim, i am spunout sinking
and tomorrow when its all better

and we might have worked some moon magic
i will be glad that i have resigned already

strong

er
or that i was right to feel abandoned

again
left lurching leering learning
(I have seen so many creative fueled by abandonment
so surely i have a deep reservoir occasionally flow)
my sight spins around her us, there is no distraction
but i'm hurting in places i can't conceive
i'm wandering alone a Honduran Road, I'm speaking solo in Sweden

my pattern of action unchanged except intention

that's the difference between homicide and manslaughter
i'm forgot to breather
and she will leave

i have one last package to send her
today i found funny clippings

of real estate agents
to paste on the envelope
it was a purchased reply

to a suggestion she made:
that we trade across
our distance a notebook
to fill with alternating
response and inspiration

so now i see fit to miss

committment
the driving drum

of primary affection
i will starve without it
wander the savannah, in a cave
i have, i discover, made a masterful trade

ur, it has been made of me)
i am left justin-maker, let go of flesh comfort and bed destiny
sacrifice sweet skin that smelled like my saliva

create first this seveuring

egg