Us Two to Perfume
for D.B.A.
i.
what noise when you fart
what note when you fart
what smell
close enough to know
I wouldn't have to ask
as close to you as I am to me
where I want to be
as close to me as you are to you
where I want you to be
no partition between
your flatulence and mine
one room, one life
us two to perfume
ii.
used to being made outsider
to being left outside of this culture
outside in the rain outside
outside with yard fowl
with the birds, with the dogs
in the yard
no wonder I assail, rail against
your sensibility, your house
your walls, your city of Jericho
what if it all fell in, all fell down
won’t fall on me
used to being left just out,
just where, just near enough
to be thrown scraps
from your table
just outside
your kitchen's back door
not even a cat, fed milk
upon the kitchen floor
what about me, difficult to love
to embrace, to get your arms about
around
why the need to find
another man to love
however young
however old
iii.
why does she make these noises
like a warbler, like a thrush
on the phone, in conversation
it is/it was innocent
that is my story
I am sticking to that
she says and repeats
have I penetrated nothing
is the question I ask
after all to have been through
gone through to create attachment
if I've not gotten through
gotten anywhere
just as cheep I go back
to enterprise I was committed to
engaged in, before she happened by
with her call to life, call to live
just as well I go, I went
back to the art of dying
if only she'd tell me she loves me
if only she told me how deeply
in spite of how impractical we might be
I'd know that I've achieved
much much more than nothing
am I a loser, have I lost her
was she ever mine
a little bit, a little while
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
Written of Friday, April 9, 2010
between 10 a.m. and 3:58 p.m.
for D.B.A.
i.
what noise when you fart
what note when you fart
what smell
close enough to know
I wouldn't have to ask
as close to you as I am to me
where I want to be
as close to me as you are to you
where I want you to be
no partition between
your flatulence and mine
one room, one life
us two to perfume
ii.
used to being made outsider
to being left outside of this culture
outside in the rain outside
outside with yard fowl
with the birds, with the dogs
in the yard
no wonder I assail, rail against
your sensibility, your house
your walls, your city of Jericho
what if it all fell in, all fell down
won’t fall on me
used to being left just out,
just where, just near enough
to be thrown scraps
from your table
just outside
your kitchen's back door
not even a cat, fed milk
upon the kitchen floor
what about me, difficult to love
to embrace, to get your arms about
around
why the need to find
another man to love
however young
however old
iii.
why does she make these noises
like a warbler, like a thrush
on the phone, in conversation
it is/it was innocent
that is my story
I am sticking to that
she says and repeats
have I penetrated nothing
is the question I ask
after all to have been through
gone through to create attachment
if I've not gotten through
gotten anywhere
just as cheep I go back
to enterprise I was committed to
engaged in, before she happened by
with her call to life, call to live
just as well I go, I went
back to the art of dying
if only she'd tell me she loves me
if only she told me how deeply
in spite of how impractical we might be
I'd know that I've achieved
much much more than nothing
am I a loser, have I lost her
was she ever mine
a little bit, a little while
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
Written of Friday, April 9, 2010
between 10 a.m. and 3:58 p.m.
posted by Obie Quiet at 5:49 AM
2 Comments:
A lot, for a long time.
Saw your 6 words and though, oh, she is resorting again to being laconic, to revealing little and avoiding being at all emotional. I had to read through the entire 3 parts of "Us Two to Perfume" and then read your 6-word response to experience their impact and meaning. I discovered only then that here you reveal or confess rather more than ever before of thoughts and emotions. To say the least, I was deeply moved. I am grateful for the candor of these 6 revealing words, cryptic though they are. I had to unravel them. I had to unpackage them to get the impact. You are the right balance, the right weight on the other side of sweet see-saw.
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