Feb 26, 2007 22:36
my happiness here is going to hinge on translation,
though large parts of myself knew i'd end up here, at some point, wintering my words through the cold -
the triumphs of a new-old city
& how strange it will seem to leave the sea,
roaring at my back, a lion that lost to another language
another area code
another arm or two thrown around my back buckling under the weight of my words
& the evaluation of their worth,
so many new city mornings
with my head hovering heavy between the two -
small city scapes (scrapes), escapes, versus a brawling sprawl that even sounds foreign -
i can fumble in between the cracks here; sidewalk, skin,
smooth over the best parts, hang onto the worst,
the will of with-holding, & how many histories will it take,
till i try to have at my own.
all this space, new space, sometimes it can smother, instead of catch -
head up, shoulders back, let go of yr lower lip, breathe back past yr shoulder blades, keep teeth covered, hands bared, howl appropriately, acquire sound, adapt new signals for strength, consider the importance of speed, keep it clean, handle dirt, heart to ear, mouth to head, hold out.