blog of poet, leah umansky

The Fibers

Rationally planning the pre-fabrication. Not heat-resistant but torched.  In the practical spaces, I included love and made haste.  No contradictory associations – I am the permanent condition. 

Nothing has changed.  You can vanquish drudgery; you can surpass the divine; but the cartography is still driven-in.                                    

                                     All maps point north. Living between the two must hurt.

                                    [does it?]

All I want is tenderness    …  and a literary bar to climb up and over.               

 Play me

a solo. A dance.                       Again, and again.

                                                     [I don’t miss the past, just its possibles.]

Hand me a solo.                                                                                                                           Make me forget

what you are losing. Make me forget you are losing the tendered.  You are losing the tenderness .You are losing the tenders     

                                                                        ::the fibers::                                        

                                                                                                               wait

okay,

now in cantos; in tangos; in crescendos.  That’s better.          Pitch it up and give me that mouth.

Wherever you end up                                                                                                                               say,

             you’ll remember this.

©Umansky   2011