20 April, 2012

memo poem mepo


once you lived in Lisbon
so much more than just a summer
built pyramids of pleasures past, and those that did say never
faster, faster, faster cried the waning wake and tether
indicative of folks who study lives and loves of others

& it's not that I keep doing this
over and over
it's that i'm not doing that
over and over
never subverted
over and over
simply not mentioned

i used to be Algerian, from far external texts
stood in the arms of an ocean deeper than what we see here
worked hard for these marks, and never surrender
scathed from bow to stern, & recalling we both were

& the background sounds bleed bigger, awaiting recognition
all our backs bow thicker, stood on by some past conviction
interlocking fingers, as if conscience was cohesive
not building fortress around, rather lush gardens within them

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