Sunday morning 3 a.m.
by , 01-13-2011 at 11:26 PM (1930 Views)
I watched a couple of movies over the weekend. On Saturday I watched a movie that I found very deeply affecting called "4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days," a Romanian movie about two girls attempting to obtain an abortion for one of them during the last days of the Ceausescu era. The dialog was so naturalistic, and what those girls went through. There was a great deal of tension, but they got through it OK, not without some emotional scars beyond the actual experience itself.
I was moved to write the following as a result of it:
Sunday morning 3 a.m.
I wake
my body sitting on the outside
looking in
barren landscapes flash by
as if I sit contemplative
on an empty subway
in a world without skin
In the deserted lobby
of a dream laden hotel;
the phone rings,
no one answers,
I can hear laughter floating
in the stale air
and a child with fairy hair
The faces of the men
are silent
the streets denuded of beauty
the illusion of safety peeled away
the succulence and fat of life
starved from the flesh
my eyes are become feral
Water seeps from the sky
like moisture from meringue
there is no liquid here
for my tongue to hold
Qimissung
January 2011



