Saturday, October 10, 2009

Poem: Like Moths

by Nick Gallo

like moths
my thoughts skirt & distract

i wait impatiently
                                   for immolation 

or rest

a new poem
climbs beneath my eyelids
scraping away sleep

and dancing keys
my words know no escape
my breath forms an imprint on the cloth

i dream of
dead languages
and dogs gnawing on bones

          -- November, 1973

1 comment:

  1. Crisis at Starbuck‘s
    by Nick Gallo

    What do you want?

    I don‘t know.


    I‘ve forgotten.

    When did you forget?

    I don‘t know. Awhile ago, I think.

    A long time ago?

    Yes, maybe. Probably. A long time ago.

    But you knew, correct? At one point, you knew?

    Yes, I knew. I knew for a minute.

    When did you know?

    Back in 1969, I think. Or ‘70, ‘71.

    You knew or you think you knew?

    I know I knew, but now I don‘t know.

    Will you know again?

    I wish I knew. I‘m fuckin‚ thirsty.

    – October, 2006