Tracks

1 November 2014

but we didn’t have more time but
we were there then but you said

it’s no good we needed more time
on the 76 on the 200 grilling me as to

questions who am i and if i don’t know
that is all wrong; what i know we best

talk about something else, you
were in a rush but your driving didn’t

reflect it. also we wore seat belts.
in a mental rush, then, to get back

look at that apartment and wanting
me to go with, why not relax

do that tomorrow, this attitude: ten
things fall out of your line, for starters

san blas aticama playa los cocos santa
cruz platanitos steaming (driving cautiously

and wearing seat belts); zacualpan
las varas i couldn’t understand it

why you wanted my input, our present
apartments as well as the contents

of our heads resembled each other
in no way, you were a colony type

and wanted to weigh or be weighing
weighed down often, true (although)

i’d seen you catch fish after fish
and keep on swimming; black footed

disapproval but not upstairs at the english
where you told a story, the mother, the border

the beaver coat; i was in stitches
and you too laughed with your whole face

and light on your face, watering in the light
you see how all these things are?

how you cried like the arctic wind
first thing loss and loss and loss

i couldn’t stay, or for long enough
bucerías; across from the decameron

i faced the ocean and half a white wall
palm with belly girth and window

in that moment i did not care about you
you had never once asked how i was

what, flightless bird! where could
we have gone swimming in san blas

there were crocodiles so many of them
in my dreams i see their wheeling tracks

in the sand what they leave behind

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