how do I know
I have spoken
to myself in pain:
it's winter yet I can see
cherry trees along
McAllister blossom
is he the person who will paint memory
in bed by dawn
sweat soaked aubade
Vertigo. falling. raining.
because the man in Hollywood who
says he's a Circuit Boy
misspells himself
brutish
unwilling
he's flailing
a circus boy
rain
rain all day
gray
he's ink on canvas: a cityscape
of rain and bottled water
bleeding lines
to make the day longer
he convinces himself
he's blue
a child remembers
before
it says that it does
one glimpse of
what he brings to words
passes by pink
he's falling
he's flailing
he's blossomed
rain wet emptiness
rain soaked weary
frightened cries
the man in Hollywood
who believes he's a Circut Boy
misspelling himself:
a circus boy
a plan in rain
he's fragile
loud rain
standoutish
grow closer looser
I claim you
wake make love
a circus toy
"he neglects that
which goes
without saying"
-- Jeff Wietor
