terça-feira, 24 de maio de 2016

What matters now

 A tree left standing in the 
jowls of the city. The long lost 
Judith floating from Venezuela
into my dream, whispering
 something that had slipped 
or faded like our sketchpad days, two 
teenage girls at the Brooklyn zoo, our 
braids pulled out from under red scarves,
 charcoal in hand, a stretch of horizon
and a tender courage to never
stop pushing

It came to that, to putting on paper:
the displaced lions, the caged bears,
and  forth from there to the city of men,
unrolling maps, charting some course,
incorrigible as humankind itself, relentless
as someone's dirty secret that in the
end is but a simple & reckless desire held
too far from the light of the heart

Will you believe me if i tell you
that one hour is better than none,
three days better than zero? Will
you believe in me?  You can ride
rail or elevator to the top
of the city, choose which open
hand to hold or close.  Survival
you see is a balancing act, & 
what matters now, to perfect
the art: the unshapely bodies
shining in some last moonlight,
bending under the sacrificed
treetops, a knowledge of all
that has come and gone, to 
curl within it, unfurl within it,
sin perder la ternura


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