Kite Shop Down the Street (your street)

by heytherewildflower

“Today, as in any era, there are myriad roles for poets: semiotician, elegist, eulogist, gamer, white noise machine, musician, Sapphist, theorist, father figure, bird watcher, a video projection of a moving mouth—all trapped behind the glass of Wittgenstein’s fly-bottle.” -Mary Jo Bang, 6 Poets, 6 Questions

Croatian Tales of Long Ago, Illustrations by Vladimir Kirin

Kite Shop Down the Street (your street)

Who was Noah before the flood? Just a name,
just a man bound to the land (hearing voices)

If you hold your ear to my ear
in my ear you might hear (the ocean) flood;
we could hear blood pounding.

I could feel the tingling blood heat
of you listening to (my heart pump) blood.

Without you this city feels like a foreign country.
But alone in a foreign country feels like home to me.

I want to be held by arms not intent on my body, on my belonging,
body belonging to those arms. I want to belong with your body.
I want to belong. A light weight in those arms.

I want to live in a kite shop
strung with a thousand brilliant kites
I have no bright intention of flying.

We spend our time like money, and take the days
on our knees.

I wrote lists, To Do: To Buy: To Be.
a list for names and a list of things
those names were missing.

remember all those days you were missing