the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Little Man

The significant things
Your significance brings:
Your delicate streams
And your bubbly singing.
I'm clinging hard to the mental picture.
Saturated colors make it richer,
I put creases in the corners
Like the good book put to use.
Organs and cymbals,
Glory spills through the clouds
And this signal gets through,
I am talking to you.

When I come back,
Will verbal holes be filled
Despite your stubborn will?
Despite my stubborn will
To hold hands
When I come back,
Will the tape be rewound?
I don't care about the sound.
I just need those faces
I just need to retrace them.
Like the the one who gave,
And the one who took,
Or the one who named
Today in this book.
Oh, I'd come back just to repress play...
Oh, I'm counting down these waterhosed days.

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