I'm trying to segregate myself still -- poems here and laundry songs there -- I wonder if I should force this dichotomy -- any opinions? It feels right for the time being. Although I do get confused sometimes. Maybe I should try my PAD here again? (Poem A Day) or maybe I should call it DAD (Draft a Day) -- no, I don't like that -- MYAED -- (Move Your Arm Every Day) -- that's a good start.
To prove I mean it, here's a draft from a couple of weeks ago. (Not really today but oh well -- as Jackson would say -- cheese and rice.) This poem was inspired when Missy was hurtling herself along California on an AIDS ride.
the beauty of bicyclists
is an elastic flush
orange pink and red
lycra and titanium
a black thin loping
of human leg
and spoke into the next
rotation space street
the beauty of bicyclists
is a comfort, I'm driving
close enough to see the muscled
calves, the heart-shaped divot
behind the knee, a winking
ankle bone, flashing
like a kid with a torch
in the dark
signaling a friend
in the next house
darkness all around them except
in the bright orange
pink and red fingers
brain flesh, lips
the beauty of bicyclists
laps up the miles of road
between now and all the next
nows, working and work,
the rhythm
the language of the wheel
(you know it's a draft because there are no capital letters)
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