THIS IS A POEM ABOUT CLAY FACES AND MACHINERY AND THE NEXT DEMOLITION 10.28.17

10.28.17

 

I felt my spirit soar
with the revelation
that we have autonomy
over our moments, our memories,

that they are vehicles
designed to be operated,
machinery used like any other
to facilitate a certain process.

You are who I want you to be.
And what happened to us happened
as I remember it and in fact it
was not you that it happened with.

I’m happy with this new one.
In my head I rework your face
like clay to assume the features of another,
and all the happy moments of my life

are restructured,
wet cement until they harden.
And they stay that way
until the next demolition.

 

 


Written at 5:25 in the afternoon, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA. 

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