Diane Schmolka, Officiant  
 

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dandp@gmail.com

 

The Uncabled Movie

On frosted snow the uncabled movie unfolds in the blanket night heat

All those waterfronts uncovered reveal my patrol in grey rain mocks the yellow silence of the suburban street lamps

The haze in waves belies tramp fisherman stringing a line in the jellied water, as my eyes become searchlights h oping to site your stern edge ahead

I try to recover the code morosed in the labyrinth of verse I sent you The rain bucketing my feet doggeding my ears wastes too much time before the commercial

There was a time I thought they were flowers-those lines you'd bloom in them as freesia and columbine but now all you want to be is dried in the old pages of my log book

Night wears on as a rat on a wharf chews its own tail as rope and I know the only place I'm not bound is on the edge of this pier

Try as I might I can't breathe I hear a boat and I'm not the skipper It toe dances the bay I know its seen me no matter what badge I wear or what piece I have it will nap the kid in me and expose my own margins all ruffled and bluffled you'll blow my house down leave me with no phrases to black out on

And the truth of it is I'm not that tough

Diane Stevenson Schmolka .

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Page last modified on December 27, 2014, at 12:41 AM