So tell me it’s okay
Tell me anything
Or show me there’s a pull
Unassailable
That will lead you there from the dark alone
To benevolence that you’ve never known
Or you knew when you were four and can’t remember
Where a small knife tears out those sloppy seams
And the silence knows what your silence means
And your metaphors, as mixed as you can make them
Are linked like days, together
I still hear trains at night when the wind is right
I remember everything
Lick and thread this string
That will never mend you or tailor more
Than a memory of a kitchen floor
Or the fire door that we kept propping open
And I love this place: the enormous sky
And the faces, hands that I’m haunted by
So why can’t I forgive these buildings
These frameworks labeled home?
Headlights race towards the corner of the dining room
And half illuminate a face before they disappear
The Haunted Typewriter 