Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Poem #1 - Untitled

last night, i dreamt that i watched as a payphone was dismantled,
piece by piece, until nothing remained but the steel skeleton of the booth...

i long to remember the dreams I had
before i learned to speak,
before i knew the names of things.

this is a dangerous language.
think closely on this.

this language
sends your brothers and sisters
to the chair.
this language
orders the dropping of bombs
seals the fate of those
on those who live the night while you live the day.
this language says, "I am right,
and you are wrong."
this language turned Christ into a white man
and you
into what you believe yourself to be
just the same.

i fear the use of these words.

when all is said and done, we will begin again
and make up new words to make up for the old ones.
consider this a record.
consider this the wreckage.

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