I am staring at your picture:
I am a five hundred mile view
& you are looking out amazed.
Now searching the electric blue
for something to embrace –
a God, a mortal plain & true
though I am not one of the race.
How the long nights stretch
all the hours I waste
filling time with my words
& the dead thought of you.
There’s a black bird crying
out in the cold. If he
calls my name I might try
something new.
Leave unwillingness unbroken --
how dare you taunt me with those eyes!
Exquisite corpse I will bury you
& I will reclaim my freedom
from your funerary smile,
break away from all the boredom
into a permanent exile.
All the fragile things,
feeling always the same,
killing time with my books
& the dead love of you.
There’s a black bird crying
out in the night. If he
caws again I might try
someone new.
Exquisite corpse I will bury you.
feeling thrice my age,
I hoped would end soon.
There's a black bird flying
out on the wind.


