the Equator on your Waist
by Steven Kenworthy
Flat strapped down on my back
Where do I go from here?
Lay down next to me love and ignore the sea’s slowdance
Pour your lifestory out to me in tiny drops, one at a time, i am ready to drink up.
the constellations are watching you from their stadium in the sky. They want more.
They are turning the galaxies on and off lightswitches, morse code ceiling,
they’re hanging on your words.
I want it too.
I am drenched in the bloody gallows of your finite syllables.
I want to sail all the way around the world next to your tall tales.
I don’t care if what you say is true, just tell it of you. And only you.
Be the star of every pilot of every plane of every episode of every show of each season.
I will go there and watch with attention to detail.
In my projectorhead, next to the mattress, I will pause and zoom and rewind and replay in full speed.
If you get cold and the splinters set in, turn over and I will care for your notched spine
I like to take good care of this book. It is the last one we’ve left.
I need so much from you this journey is long.
I will remove all intruders and protect what I love most.
I will comb your vertebrae with ideas of lost frontdoor steps.
We can go inside.
We can lay next to the fireplace, and let him breathe on us.
He can pant on our skin like he just made love for the first time; until we
are the lightning smoke bolting up the chimney.
It is frozen out here though and your imagination is running a fever marathon.
I am your physical therapist. I am your blush encouragement. I am the trailer to your movie. Drag me along.
Take me with you, while I die right next to you on this damp floor.
A voyage is only as long as we are alive enough to understand its consequences.
What ever will become of us?
The pink waves are in your favor.
Open yourself up to a port of opportunity.
If you roll over and go on, I can love you forever.
If you wait for the hurricane, I can only tell you
Author's Note: tell bedtime stories forever
Posted on 02/10/2010
Copyright © 2021 Steven Kenworthy
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Frankie Sanchez on 02/10/10 at 04:12 AM|
you had me at "morse code ceiling." nicely done sir. nicely done.
|Posted by Laurie Blum on 02/10/10 at 06:18 PM|
I personally enjoyed the new word projectorhead! Great idea SK.
|Posted by Megan Guimbellot on 02/10/10 at 10:06 PM|
everything you write has such a perfect ending to it and this is no exception. i like the flow and your words and whatever amazing thought patterns lead you to create stuff like this.
|Posted by A. Paige White on 05/06/10 at 09:50 AM|
"In my projectorhead, next to the mattress, I will pause and zoom and rewind and replay in full speed." This has to be the best description of what one of Adonai's dreamers do that I've ever read.
ppsst have you heard the rumor that full speed is obsolete and quantum speed's in the Way? It is, get ready
"S5" What can anyone add to perfection? That stanza is perfection. I'm so glad your pen is forever. Forever I will drink at your artesian well. You wake me, sigh, satiated.