07-17-2012, 10:11 AM
v2:
memory formed a keen apex;
a single pinhole revealing
life as a constant slope toward
- or trajectory from - a moment.
With faint pressure,
the rich color would bleed
into firm, artful strokes.
Alas,
A blunted, crude utensil
Yet still beyond our faculty
History is the work of graceless hands:
a waxy childish smudge
in calico brown.
Original
If my memory formed a keen apex,
if a single pinhole revealed
my life as a constant slope toward
or angle away from
that moment…
if, with a little pressure,
the rich color would seep out in bold lines,
I would write my history.
But there are no straight lines,
the points are jagged
and my history is a waxy childish smear
in calico brown.
memory formed a keen apex;
a single pinhole revealing
life as a constant slope toward
- or trajectory from - a moment.
With faint pressure,
the rich color would bleed
into firm, artful strokes.
Alas,
A blunted, crude utensil
Yet still beyond our faculty
History is the work of graceless hands:
a waxy childish smudge
in calico brown.
Original
If my memory formed a keen apex,
if a single pinhole revealed
my life as a constant slope toward
or angle away from
that moment…
if, with a little pressure,
the rich color would seep out in bold lines,
I would write my history.
But there are no straight lines,
the points are jagged
and my history is a waxy childish smear
in calico brown.