Thursday, September 30, 2004
Recurrences
by Marie Kazalia
woke to the CRACK
of an ending
early this morning
mechanical
electronic
Cantonese noise
outside
I can no longer
pass between sounds
the man I am with
moves right thru me
our mutual injuries
too familiar to recognize
the man I am with
a gnawing rat
at my brain
day after day
eat the same meal
egg shells in the sink
each other’s expectations
the ideal disappointed
lipstick on my coffee cup
Recurrences
one day, three years later
the only things
that make any sense
