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
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Crisis at Starbuck‘s
ReplyDeleteby Nick Gallo
What do you want?
I don‘t know.
What?
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