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It will be easier when I'm with you, right now I'm hungry and sad and can only play language like a violin, pretending it was made of something. I want to tumble down and splash into childhood, I want to draw it out but when I think of what I want I see waves crashing on a shore I'll never know if language finds possibility in what it cannot do or if it doesn't I just know that I was bound to look the other way until it passes I'm bound into living for the sake of it because the opposite choice is death I just want to fingerpaint with words, because it's easier than painting the entire sky Poetry was born in the absoluteness of words like stars or moon I want to shout at those fixed lights for the sake of it, to feel drunk on poem-drunk which is the drunk of thinking poem-drunk is real I want to press my hollow into the world so my children can fill it with their lives |