15 Jan

I was going to start
A dream diary
I kept it by my bed

Instead I dreamed of writing
In my dream diary
I dreamed of a word
That I have since forgotten
A word about improvident overflowing
A bit too much over the edges.

My dream diary, meanwhile
Lies blank, and meanwhile
I am improvidently overflowing
About everyone I have ever lost
Everyone I ever cared about
All you who left, one way or the other.

So. Here it is. Morning, banjo music on the radio
Dream diary at my side, still waiting.

I will always miss you all. This will
Manifest itself in different ways. Currently
I am crying. Later
I will dream, and perhaps I will bother
To write these lost words, these verbs of
And make some meaning from them
Perhaps I will string them with twigs,
And hand-dyed linen
And hang them from my windows
With prisms
Of the past

Or maybe I will write them on the walls again
Maybe this time I will burn twigs
Do it with charcoal
Maybe a little blood.

This is silly, though
So melodramatic
It’s pretty obvious
That I should color you all with dust
The dust you left when you went
The dust that choked me.

I shall color this dust
With spit and ochre
I shall grind up my world to color your dust
And then I will paint you all over the place
In all your meanness
Your cruelty
I will show you
You will be shown.

2 Responses to “Coloring”

  1. judywross 2016/01/15 at 1:37 pm #

    always a good idea to turn anything into art to release it.


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