bright lights, loud noises: a moment
i can imagine our conversation
months from now:
“i still think about you/yeah, me too/i didn’t throw your toothbrush away/me neither/i met someone/me too/i hope you’re happy/me too/i’ll never forget the good stuff/me neither/i’ll see you sometime/definitely”but we never will,
we will…
no losers
you use every ounce
of what god has given you
and
laugh at others
who throw
away what we
dream of having,life has
dealt you
a rough handbut
who gives a fuck
about losing,you
will be 19
forever
a love poem
this is a love poem
and
it really doesn’t matter
what i put in here
because
fucking can do it better,
getting out of bed to turn
off the light or turn on the fan
can do it better,
sitting in a restaurant knowing
what the other is going to order
can do it betterbut i’m writing it because
some sort of
space should be roped off
for you
so here
it isit’s yours
CHARLES SIMIC
The nightbirds like children
Who won’t come to dinner.
Lost children singing to themselves.
—Poetry, August 1990
Happy birthday, Charles Simic!
"
“I don’t think that I’ve been in love as such,
Although I liked a few folk pretty well.
Love must be vaster than my smiles or touch,
For brave men died and empires rose and fell
For love: girls followed boys to foreign lands
And men have followed women into Hell.
In plays and poems someone understands
There’s something makes us more than blood and bone
And more than biological demands…
For me, love’s like the wind, unseen, unknown.
I see the trees are bending where it’s been,
I know that it leaves wreckage where it’s blown.
I really don’t know what ‘I love you’ means.
I think it means ‘Don’t leave me here alone.’”
— Sonnet, Neil Gaiman
