Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Win / Loss

A game is played
on an abstract field, each team
vying for what’s worth vying for.
Various moves are made, strategies
employed. A vendor in the stands
on the internet makes a sale. In the living room
a heart moves, in actuality
a man’s hopes, abstract, up in him
die, or soar. A film major
has caught it all
from one angle. The philosophers say
it’s fragmented, but this all
has one tremendous arc, written
in the black vault of stars,
I want to say. They keep on
reappearing, long after they’ve
not even gone. I wished, felt
things— destroyed because they could not,
in my lifetime, ever
be different. Fact is they are changing every day
but they are not. Fact is
a shelled creature moves across
the pavement. I would eat your shoe, or car
is how I feel right now, as lost or angry
as the fan who’s lost, whose team
huddles dejected, praying. What else can we do.
What else could we have done.

1 Comments:

Blogger Inga said...

this is beautiful, adam. there's a lovely quietness about it. after reading it last night, i felt compelled to go to the window and close the curtains. i wrote the first few decent lines i've written in weeks and weeks.

3:20 PM  

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