Caitilin's
Poetry
...for he who finds me, finds life
--Proverbs
I pursue you in the light of legendary belief;
In thin sheets, washed with small words.
I pursue you in auditoriums,
where ancient bones are chewed and
chewed, and swallowed
by those with the stomach for it.
I look for you in the well-fed faces
of young men who got over sin
the way I got over acne, and
the busy bodies of young women,
who put you on
like an apron.
I listen for you in the voices
of old women who speak splinters,
and old men who hold theirs
between cheek and gum,
for a memory.
Sometimes I think this is a scavenger-hunt;
Other times, that we are all assassins, and
there is a price
on your head.
ORIENTATION
I. Edge of reality slips over eye.
It is a crown,
worn rakishly.
It is made of the skipping of a stone.
It is made of lightning cracking anything open.
II. The two conversations we are holding are making
me stiff. You can be my friend or my lover,
never both.
III. DAMN!
IV. They put mind readers away,
or on television.
it wasn't easy to say goodbye
you cried
I coughed
i had a lie
caught
in my throat
lyric, you
pierce me
with the honesty
of a .38 caliber bullet;
only
as i stagger
bleeding
from the alley
do lies
in midnight blue
and flashing red
grab me up
again.
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by Caitilin Glen Cagney.
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