Have a story for yourselves
she woke up sobbing
putting on her blouse quickly and left the door
wide open
to the elements
shifting in the cool afternoon breeze
caught for glimpses in puddles or shimmering
negligence, she reminded herself
the keys, the lists, the bags themselves
the door hooked slightly as she had lifted from its frame
the corners of sight or the daydream
she watched herself asking
why everything felt so mundane
some days
how the sky would be for her
and sometimes without
swallowed portions of motive
this won’t be a drive she missed
calculating the steps and stumbling
cursing long skirts and blundering about her bag
ribbon and lace, she had told herself
not all these masculine airs and awkward motions
strange curtness and obviousness
must be somebody else’s daydream
can’t decipher the parts i’m under
bodies filled with this
places needing that
calmly directives beat out themselves
the temples against our pulses
understandably
those pluses, deer in the road again
civility
only the very passionate
must experience, then
harshness, counterfeit realist fear-based concealment
what could I do to love someone she thinks
blasts at herself with carelessness or wrent sorrow
what usefulness we give ourselves
there must be some other as lonely a placement
a planet
such abandonment
she stops and takes her keys with her
but not in her bag
wants to point them at you when she speaks
wants to see where things might happen before a lead
begs her feet with her eyes
be stable
reassurance, she rustles her keys again as she’s walking
long hallway
open meadow
empty sidewalk
long alley
she opens a door and steps quickly inside
another long hallway
the librarian made her sweat
when he caught her eyes
stared at the hopeless drifts
those shelves she had dusted for sayings to herself
for the right thing to say
for controlled panic holds based emotionalism
from cover to cover
sheltering fear annoyances or excruciating shyness
bound herself against those commonality romantics
something differently
small figure or decoration
for when every sameness
must be shared anyway
must be, how well open to receive or how prepared
could you be
or specific as if you would fashion somebody
a body specifically
for themselves against you
or in whatever you choose
those simple sentences
that most carefully sunken liniment
a man in uniform blushed
she tried smiling
what’s worth as if any option had graced her
as if every choice someplace could assume itself
the cautionary whimsical distress cantor
she delivered herself before daring counter
the stern reliant
easily departing
dependence forever
needed severity and triviality nostalgia
“did you get lost?” he said past the guard.
“wasn’t coming or going, how could that be?” she says, startled.
Her keys were still in her hand, she fiddled with them sadly as soon as she spoke
hearing the broken or meanness and disappointed in herself
how many parts can rearrange themselves beyond sight
needed places still balancing
against the moments thought
she was suddenly surrounded by the scenery eventually
“there is no place for us.” he said, suddenly. As if in a glimmer he had suspected the
background missing and needed to calculate.
“don’t mind.” she said simply, dis-caring toward the options left
“would it be easier for you to imagine
no place for any of that?”
stowaway distress and complaint fierceness
residual want uncanny wavering distance
shook to herself and mumbled down empty
those rifts felt space of her
glancing too close or keeping parts for display
other imaged pardon about imagination
take whatsoever you find as exactly what you need
disregard the fumbling or surety set valuable scaling
liability exclusion to remove itself
any blame or oversight
anything you want to tell yourself
observing what you want to see or hear
those wants tell themselves to the obviousness or covet
the disjointed sunken dealt in rumor stigma and lie
you must already know what I mean
what I had meant by that
take it upon yourselves
apologetic segment forgetfulness and shrugging
never get to the story
“i will never be
what is expected”
cannot give yourself a placement
those tails they imagine waiting behind them
long trains they deliver themselves walking
echoed sounding and reverberating motion
same passed by each day
each sound left patterns of its decay against the surrounding hillsides
of course, everyone heard the same
exactly.
Caught up between themselves
those longing transcribed bitter endings
or couldn’t guess or see must be
anything else wary weary empty wholeness
complacency that good enough
get by and don’t trouble anyone or yourself
too badly let it pass another day void
could we avoid
losing all the love we have?
Stranger characters of togetherness
suppose yourself for or against anyone within instinctual
instances of forethought they’ve been stuck and
jarring themselves lately see it’s not anything
but faults to lie or guessing perfunctory regulation type
this would be okay with me or this would destroy my sense of self-defeat
all my suffrage, and then what else would push along
workmanship hasn’t been for companions
this might actually be hopeless
just checking though but seriously what’s creepy
to themselves I couldn’t guess anymore
no spying or the imaginary where you’re in my dreams
or have your clothes off smiling
angst like, you could probably see that
and it was probably someone else’s memory
or yours from forming someone else’s smile
to feel wanted
there’s a sense of ever escaping
misstep offset from fields grown over
those cautionary winds or bending suggestions
adrenaline bothered extreme situations
naked on a doorstep, i’ll meet you someday
it’s not the ending you would hope for
criminality would always be my side of things
those missing ledges and defensive glanced piles
of paperwork for or against
his mindfulness caught like a calm hand
watched wavering and pulled in
escaped artists seen ending life
several times day dreams enveloped
to wonder if you needed this
for whatever sense of involvement
we have never had, or to smirk the injustice
these places are always entirely alone
to the memory of threats
thrown sideways, tied twice underwater
naked hypothermia tragedy one after another
if you ever saw or guessed
you were part of their criminal work
fought for other sides,
those drawls and needed forethought
premonitions of others’ memory or entirely fantasy
always happening upon something
dreamer sacrificed data against the onslaught
you won’t make it through this one
survived the parting
alive, well; these lakes have stories to tell
paranoid contraptions for showing us ‘the dangers’
imprints of memory framing others’ reference
any excuse or exclusion for regarding
the formulated angst and trepidation
willingness against reality grudge
sad to see for yourselves, slipped parts
hung from rafters as lively story
always, for an enemy
uniformity: if you didn’t hear it from me
you must have heard it from the criminals
how will I explain this predicament
having sight for the uses of safety
watching imprints cast lengths of potential
fretting with the analysis
scenarios caution themselves and beware
those pitfalls won’t carry themselves away
as anything but dangers to forgive
trust against the odds grumbling
this isn’t my or your story lining possible memory
the threats he had told her of the last past these doors
down these hallways
rounding a corner while turned away
a few seconds or moments apart or distant
longing drawing patterns of solitude
would never run into you
training to always miss the event
you tend to
better in the dark, anyways
thought you would knock
could finally answer you
would love you forever, don’t know you
worthiness the ugliness and frights, the lure
besides, those carefully graphed instances
for instinctual surrender to perfect motion
deliver themselves from the ether
from the conditioning and training
from the chords struck dinging for or against
from sitting alone for years on end
in quiet, empty rooms with no friends or bothering
never be belonging
in story never hear it
missing, lost stolen, mistaken
slipped in breathless, waiting for commotion
a small, cramped place
everywhere laying around there
something to fill space with void
certain textures or hues from particular factories
what could this produce?
A paperweight, a globe, a handkerchief, a list in the pocket
of an old jacket
empty pins on the wall and smothered smoke
on dark floor, small creaks moved along
sideboards and trim, faint lights
illuminated small glass plates and captured arrays
she passed by the opening in the window without looking
watched the door frames and tried keeping herself stern
tragedy, these unnamed martyrs
here were the places they kept
to themselves with, warehouses full of familiar rooms
there have been so many stolen
lost gone missing
no names to carry them any
longer, just parts of their ideas
from others
their bones are never found
but here, some mementos for the graphing procedures
for what could be taken and sold
they would never find this place, he’s saying
and would never recognize it if they could
places they used to live, used to inhabit
these small rooms now
stowed away in compartments and strewn
disarray, found small parts for themselves
had lost sight of the objects
in the commotion of formulation
as any object the same in an entirely different perspective
almost becomes unrecognizable
becomes nobodies belonging
the librarian had wandered around the compound
passed through dark alleyways, startled at the man in uniform
found different entrance-ways
felt the empty corridor, the hollow floors
saw the disarrayed portions of room
saw the dust covered remnants of paperbacks
or reems of discarded material
recovered small objects
slipped them into his jacket
to remember these by those gone
they had rounded a corner hand in hand
proud of the locked up goods, laughing about the missing
there was one that just wouldn’t quit
had to bind and steal
there were more who wouldn’t cooperate
but they are long gone now
no remains to dissuade
no problems for the programmers
the librarian hid, carefully
watched them pass through the small openings in the window
he took another look around
the small room still had the paperweights
the hankercheif, the list and globe
he wondered how many were lost here
how many couldn’t find the placement for their visions
attributed portions of rooms that are not theirs
stolen in objects that no longer frame a way they would recognize
The librarian found an exit
opened up to the alleyway and ran away, never seen
the mind monitors had gone out
just a day or so
we could hear each other again
faintly, face to face
but without monitors
it now felt horribly out of place
operant remote links to reference
words for when there aren’t any
stolen ways and wares for someone else’s ears
they can wear these, characters
like any other suit or dress, shaky informant objects of others
the pair were still laughing about the surrendered
and the other burdens or gone forgotten
the nights they would climb and pretend and kill
the disappeared and lost, the missing or assassinated
the man in uniform stepped aside for the figure with an impish grin
from height, a burdened hand looked past, listless
neither definitive nor associating itself for even moments
in large, ambiguous movement
took into the door frame and disappeared
setting down the bag, exited again
((\\ashes, ashes
we all fall down!\\))
