poemy feeling

Waiting to say

I’ve been wanting to say something
for the longest time
but when I open my mouth I blurt
business dealings
pop music mash-ups
practical requests
current events

Instead of saying what I mean, I go off
on a tangent about
Rhesus Macaques out of control in Delhi
following commuters onto subway cars
and invading hospitals to
suck glucose drips
while the back corner of my mind
grasps for the Hanuman courage
to follow the sun all the way around the earth
and ask it to be my teacher
But I find my stance is not broad enough
so I scamper away, thinking
next time ‘round

I’ve thought these words through
a thousand times
polished them like a pebble or a poem
but when I try to say them, all I find are
grocery lists
prayers
long-winded descriptions
Latin names

Instead of connecting, I go on about
this asteroid that’s predicted
to crash into the surface of Mars at 30 thousand miles per hour
on January 30^th, 2008, leaving a crater ½ mile wide
or maybe not – the scientists can’t be sure
Some integrating feature of my brain
stretches to draw a parallel
between
doomed planet
blind asteroid
a lack of clarity about probability and effect
and our current situation
But I lose my focus, and spin back out to
yeah, well, we’ll see I guess

I’m sitting here waiting
every morning for my muse
Her name is Stella – which temps me to stand outside in my undershirt shouting her name
but calling her would be like calling a star
By the time my voice arrived
it would be 100 years later
She’d be Supernova already, or maybe my aim would be off
Even if she answered
I’d be long gone before the message got back

There’s something I’ve been waiting to say
but catching the right moment
is like capturing a moth
with chopsticks
then not knowing what to do
once I have it

So I think I’ll stop trying to deliver the long-poem version
(for now anyway)
and just tell you
about a man in a hat of crumpled glass
He’s gone, but the idea lives on
My intention in this is to find that feeling again

Like a tug on the line from
deep
deep
deep
the words to song mostly forgotten
like a dollar in your pocket
like on old key
found
in the bottom of a bag
I’ll hold it and keep it
turn it
and tell you
Hey, it’s just me.