Dark Poetry Prose Poetry June 26, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

6-26-03:37 pm Brick NJ thursday

if i forget exactly when lost became found am i lost again? if can't say it though i'm thinking does that make it less or more indicative of all the things that lives claim to want, but shy away from when they happen?

i listen and drop what i am thinking. i clutch the promise that was broken before it had even been finished being said. applying pressure to the wounds as if emotion can be tourniquetted.

cold, naked nights wallow in the silence. like slobs in their crusty easy chairs imbibing in solitude and masturbating on sadness. bloated, ugly memories are taunted by the better ones. like cruel children on a playground throttling the weak and the passive.

it doesn't stop. it just gives up. that premise underlies a lifetime as it putters forward in awkward transition. love never does not. it just stops asking. puts the questions in a high up box and leaves them there for the dust to cover. love does not cease. it just stops asking. takes the questions and marks them as processed. as if they are complete. though they never will be.

friends and strangers intersect like atoms exploding to create electricity. friends and lovers diverge. like two paths in an old poem. less travelled or beaten is your choice. friends and strangers collect like sweat in the wrinkles life does lend. friends and lovers converge like galaxies in impact. the ripples carry and the effects are boundless. new world. new stars to look at. new memories to forget.