Wednesday, December 2, 2009

LOVEVOLUTION


I resist, like one too many sheets of paper under the stapler.
Staples made of pure gold.
The papers combust in a dry heat scorching my skin.
Their ashes smell of old mimeograph ink
Remembered so damp and cool to the touch.
I hear the hushed classroom of my childhood
And taste shame and chalk dust in those ashes
Where John Bardo held my attention in 7A.

I flow into the memory like water from a garden hose.
Then stall and stagnate in the heat.
A heat where memory evolves like protozoa
Dying to live.
They don’t know the difference between love and in love either.

The salty taste of freedom weighs them down
The chains of liberty bind them together
Supporting them as they learn to walk upright
out of the primordial ooze.

Where Antimony is there to link hand in pseudopodia
So that they can dance their evolution
Together over days and eons
Their barking laughter playing over the Mesozoic landscape.

They know where they are going
But cannot name the destination.
La vie dancee.
Led from the primordial ooze and followed by all

The brave, the lonely, the simple, the golden, the shamed, 
even the resistant evolve in love.

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