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I've found out why, that day, that suicide
From the Empire State falling on someone's car
Troubled you so; and why we quarreled. War,
Illness, an accident, I can see (you cried)
But not this: what a bastard, not spring wide!...
I said a man, life in his teeth, could care
Not much just whom he spat it on... and far
Beyond my laugh we argued either side.

'One has a right not to be fallen on!...'
(Our second meeting... yellow you were wearing.)
Voices of our resistance and desire!
Did I divine then I must shortly run
Crazy with need to fall on you, despairing?
Did you bolt so, before it caught, our fire?


Submitted by Holt

Added: 1 Mar 2004 | Last Read: 27 May 2012 12:23 PM | Viewed: 2941 times

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