dead drunk dublin and other imaginal spaces
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d r y

b y   m i c h a e l   l o v a t t

for long periods
what to do
with all that's inside
yet we follow the outside
cocaine's really not conductive
trying for words, out of no-thing.
what would we do
if there really were no thingz?

Memories haunt me
scare me
and follow me
where to put them
what name to give them
like abandoned children
looking for what they didn't have.
All these motions
are so integrated
with the flow of time
and the events of life.
My hands on a keyboard
late at night
I wonder what will come
of this and us
simple in poetry
two in one
and one plus one equals three
who said that
and where are you now.

The children still call out
our names.



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