Sunday, October 20, 2013


  <\a man with a future>
  <\a man with dreams>
  <\a man with nothing to lose>
  <\a man with everything to lose>
    they live with me still:
    taste of her thighs
    on humid nights
    in Ithaca. Me in the library
    decoding symbolic
    logic with a key
    that made no sense
    but worked
    out in the proof.
     it - whatever
     it is - remains.
     whether I will
     or no: brain cells
     puzzling out
     like a wishing 
      it will come
      to pass 
      or not:
      the house
      in Old Town,
      or true love.
      the days shorten
      along with
      the years.
       i pull your hair
       from the fire,
       your skin blackened
       on the severed head
       my father threw there
       in a rage of sorrow
       that earth knows
       when scrying 
       the skies for rain,
       his animal cry
       sinking its teeth
       into the tongues
       of withered 
       wheat fields.

Copyright 2013 Charles David Miller. All rights reserved.

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