Saturday, October 11, 2014

Mimi-Mona Poetry: I Knew That

                                            ©I Knew That
                               Mimi Wolske
                                         October 2014

By winter, will she have forgotten my hair is white now?
I forgot her birthday
Late is okay she said.
Funny how guilt works like a roadmap
Where all the cities are sleep...or less.
And the car I was driving caught on fire
I'd like to say;
But that'd be dramatic,
                                    That'd be hyperbole.
Am I not too old for that? I'm too old for some things.
I have become an origami version of myself...
Still mobile but a lot stiffer in the joints.
Loneliness cannot be cured by recognizing it;
I know that.
In a vague sense, I also know
I'm totally open to that being false.
Hey, if you don't want to die in a metaphor,
You can't live in a metaphor.
Why is it the moon refuses to take my midnight calls?
What? You expected a reward for not softening
In the arms of women you do not care about?
It's answering machine says on Monday.
                                    Tuesday: You get nothing for nothing.
By Wednesday you're ready to throw your phones
Off the top of Mount Columbia,
                                    And pray for ice,
But, with her, this could be the sort of life
Where things get smoothed over,
And you know that.
Dammit! I knew that, too.
I knew that like I know how to pant and gasp
In the middle of the morning
With the winter sun freezing my skin like caught salmon.
And so I start again.
A big part of my heart belongs to her, in Arizona,
                                    And it's like I am made of lungs
Hyperventilating to share the same air
And to meditate on her.

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