Thursday, August 05, 2010

Proper Nouns
for D.B.A.

Christ,
she is so childish and so womanish
switches back and forth
without a shred or sliver of notice

after having stressed me severely
separating herself from me

on foot at the back of the room
while I sat, divided,

writing poetry in pain
while Olive delivered, lectured

able to half-listen, not really listen
not listen fully

when it was over, I reached out to her
"Do you have this?" I asked

Marion's Bougainvillea Ringplay in hand
at the end of left, outstretched arm

this, nothing more needed to effect
reconciliation

requested, required name of someone
she had to- she wanted to talk to

put on the spot I was unable to recall

swiftly she wrote
Obediah Michael Smith
upon the back of
my Milo Butler notebook

what it meant, what it said
I still haven't a clue

what I did know was
that it was 1 of or 3 of
the most positive notes
or the most positive chord

she had ever played for me
I knew it was as if
she'd written I Love You
on my book, on its front cover

or on the beach in sand
or in letters 10 feet tall
across the sky

woman-child I love and cherish
cherishes me also

when time permits
when she gets around to it


Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
2:52 a.m. 05.08.10

1 Comments:

Anonymous d.a. said...

quite wonderful. quiet and wonderful. wonderfully quiet. this is proper poetry. boi i don kno if you cud cook(since you always eating cereal) but this poem gat the right ingredients i tell u dat.

Thursday, August 05, 2010 7:08:00 PM  

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