(Poetry class: 2 people read out loud, DBQ would say "switch" and two different people would read different things out loud; we wrote, pulling words from the air, from the words of the people reading....)


I can't.
You have never....
Sleepily I belong to you.
Goodbye -- wait --
...of which you are not your brother
every, every minute you
clear your throat
I cease to be a woman I am your sister
--switch-- but you 
to think the way of life never departs
we shall have to return to this point
here, this century, revolving.
We tend not toward love
it will not switch.
Stay where you are!  Here you're safe.
I had given up the comfort and security of my
known home; I dove
into early morning today
scared half to death, 
turning around and turning... I can not hold
you, us.
Please do not change
this image of a line, a figure.
Our line now has abstracted itself
into a nightmare rocking me
most of the day,
I'm sorry, I said over and over.
We had no interest in that strange sense of turning
returning but all we want was to return.
It's way beyond you.
She hesitates, does not hate.
I am in fact fifteen, browsing slowly an
array of emotions.
There are some things I do not remember
photographs of what is no longer.
How many times I have become a profile of
myself, for all my efforts I still have
been put between certainty and oblivion
in boxes or fears.
It's like you're explaining everything to me
What if I love you?
I am sorry I am sorry I am sorry
I almost felt awkward wishing....
never mind, I was only joking.

30 September 1999