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August, 2003

dreamshe says she can't figure me out,
     she says.
well try being me.
   a guy who loves puzzles.
I frustrate myself.

there's a train whistle off in the distance
tonight drifting through my open
window; its importance carries
further in darkness, in the 21st
century, the space age, the future,
the rhythm tread still chugs out
hope still  chants lyrics of
   escape moreso than an airplane
or any transatlantic streamer might—
     trouble is
               anymore

where to  go
     that isn't already like

here?

dreamed the way the atmosphere
   bends light and refracts
one day I will catch the
   Perseids
      not on a night when they
     open for  the full moon




© 2003 by the respective poets