Monday, February 9, 2009

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DEAD THINGS THAT FOLLOW ME

There is a medium-sized
cockerspaniel dog
with large clumps of hair slightly covering its eyes.
Sometimes it runs into things,
thin things mostly:
street poles or parking meters,
and then it sprints for awhile
to fulfill its position
behind me.

There is a black cat
that is average in weight and size
and is very grumpy all the time.
It walks at a slow, steady speed,
and always at the same slow and steady speed.
I remember lying on my bed
when I was younger with it
afraid to move
because it would get upset;
I spoke to it very seriously,
and told it about all of the people that I hated from school.

There is a woman,
that is mother.
She looks as strong
as I remember her.
Standing next to her
is her father,
proud and grinning,
and her brother-in-law,
alert and occupied with something surrounding him.

They always follow me,
and they mingle with each other,
and with the world
and with other spirits that belong to living people
and also with the lonely spirits that belong to no one.
They fill up space
I once thought was empty.

They’re scattered around
and lying on my floor, bored,
as I lie on my bed, bored,
and staring at the wall.

I’ve never been afraid of being alone
because I know I’m never alone.
Does that make any sense?

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