quicksilver drinking down the drainpipe,
seven am.
and i never thought this feeling would
drink me down again.
i saw you yesterday with sunlight,
fallen in the rain.
i saw you in the morning but by evening you had
slipped away.
and the last thing i had meant to do was the first thing
that i did.
and the final act of a man gone mad
were the last words of my faded sin.
(so let me out,
push me down,
and show me all the better places
i dreamed of eliot again,
the putting on of meeting faces.)
fire hydrants,
goldfish leaving,
all the sounds of a change in season.
empty warehouse,
neighbor's lawn,
soaks your shoes through, laces gone.
shirt sleeves,
fallen leaves,
swimming through the oak trees.
empty beer cans,
scratched up hands,
broken radios,
rubber bands.
all the things we'd left alone
all the times we'd never known
all the stories whisper-told
i guess we have to go...
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