Wednesday, January 26, 2005


Restless lethargy
The consuming wave.
No crests to ride on
The woman sings soulfully
To things I don’t connect with
But enjoy as if they were there
Not because I want to be
But because she’s talking about feeling your dreams
And so I realize mine
What she’s crooning about.
Indian villages don’t come to mind
Only foreign situations
Of lovers and promises they hold
Never is a promise.
Never is a good idea when lethargy stalls all else.


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