Meditation: Koln

o would you cry out
with your tin voice
in the most reluctant
of evenings would you
cry out, black and blue,
for all the pain I caused
for all the trouble I am

o would you make me free
o would you help me breathe
would you care to
let me down easy

Etude

It's not so
easy for me
to yearn for much
in January.

Forgive me if
I say a cross word
or two this month,
I just get sour over
how much I feel bullied
by the wind chill.

Return

Polished steel and gears are nice to think about:
perfectly aligned teeth that churn and whirr
and an immortal hardness, enviable, sure!

I would act his part, following on sidewalks
beholden to the android pied piper,
I imitate his rigid joints, and pivot-walk
as if to say nothing but "I am" and none
would do me harm, though they try.

But the mind that makes me pliable
to metal dreams of silvered-sleek
seems only to come home wrapped
in this imperfect heart of me.