Tuesday, September 16, 2008


she told me that i lost my voice.

i laughed at her,
she was always a strange chick-
all lace and beads and dandelion petals...

she said
you'll see, you lost it-
somewhere between the meadow
and the back gate

somewhere in the stampede
of moving bodies
and stomping feet

somewhere along the way
you let it slip free from your lips-
perhaps when you were trying to be
all things
to all men?

perhaps when you were trying to fit in amongst the fleet?
perhaps when you decided that
being you
was just too hard
and being them
looked easier?

I realize its lost now-
as i stand blinded in the storms
as my good turns against me
and i wait for each approaching wind-

i try to roar against it-
and nothing comes
nothing comes
now I bear the damage
of its lashing tongue;

And so i comb the meadow
get trampled by the stomping feet
overturning this
upsetting that-
hoping i will find it.

I need to find it.

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