rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Gust

Breezes rise to gusts, the sudden rustle of leaves is punctuated by a slamming door. This is the hot night wind of late summer, blowing west from the deserts of Nevada. It is fitting accompaniment to the buzzing cicadas. Summer will burn its way through the next week, even though tomorrow is the autumnal equinox. It will dry the leaves before they drop to the parched ground where they will rattle as the wind takes them. I hear some now, heading across the street to be caught against the picket fence the crescent moon's departure has left invisible. September is all leavings and memories.




Sunday Verse



Antilamentation


by Dorianne Laux


Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read
to the end just to find out who killed the cook.
Not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark,
in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication.
Not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot,
the one you beat to the punchline, the door, or the one
who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones
that crimped your toes, don't regret those.
Not the nights you called god names and cursed
your mother, sunk like a dog in the livingroom couch,
chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness.
You were meant to inhale those smoky nights
over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings
across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed
coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches.
You've walked those streets a thousand times and still
you end up here. Regret none of it, not one
of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing,
when the lights from the carnival rides
were the only stars you believed in, loving them
for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved.
You've traveled this far on the back of every mistake,
ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house
after the TV set has been pitched out the upstairs
window. Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied
of expectation. Relax. Don't bother remembering
any of it. Let's stop here, under the lit sign
on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.

Subscribe

  • Reset Twenty-Two, Day Seven

    The sky seemed an oddly deep shade of blue Tuesday afternoon, and free of both smoke and clouds, but as I looked at it longer something seemed a bit…

  • Reset Twenty-Two, Day Six

    Monday brought more sleep, this time from about one o'clock in the afternoon until just after six in the evening. The one advantage of that was that…

  • Reset Twenty-Two, Day Five

    The sleep schedule weirdness is continuing. Sunday I woke up around two o'clock in the afternoon after sleeping almost eight hours, but when ten…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 1 comment