just exactly
the other day
i accepted everything
just exactly as it is.
i fell through a hole
in the universe
it
there’s this side and
there’s that side
(both are it)
it’s just on that side
(you are the door)
the sun is out
an ecstasy of silence
last night
where i have been
galaxies burned
stars turned
comets, planets, suns and yet an
intimacy i have not known
exhilaration without centre
something moved to find the phone to call someone
to tell them: look
but there wasn’t a phone or
anyone to call
just this:
an ecstasy of silence
spam
i’m reading this book about how god is an unreconstructed maniac
i think it might be true:
it’s why I’ve been afraid
forever
to look her
directly in the face
the day
and the day came
in which i folded up
all my pictures of you:
the saints, the women who made it,
even the horse i had as a child
the one that died.
i folded them up
and put them back inside my heart
the place,
in the beginning
i’d taken them out of
to put on a shelf
as though
they were outside
and i was a shell
separate
on my knees,
hands together
asking for help
people and things
why do good things happen to bad people ?
do good things happen to bad people ?
things ?
people ?
it’s all seeming less and less likely