Friday, November 12, 2010

June Twenty Two (4th redux) -28/11/2010


It found you, again.

Walking the night
in another city
you'd never been before
yet looking
like so many others
you’d been to
since June twenty-two.

The date
that you
left her.

Now this lonely planet
bookshelf blur
of single serve countries
of long forgotten lessons
from phrasebook collections
and you’ve lost count
of their exact
numbers now
how many foreign tongues
have you gotten tied with?
how much have you
bluffed your way through
de-creased in the map folds
the passport pages dog eared
the blank stares you’ve coffee stained
how much time lost or gained
in time zone changes?

You long ago quit counting.

Without doubt
you must have walked down
hundreds of such strips by now
stretching back further
than you can remember
but never
have you failed
to retain this date,
today’s date.

June Twenty Two.

Before then you’d never pursued
the taste of foreign food
never sought sights Saharan
Himalayan Mediterranean
metropolitan cosmopolitan
never knew the freedom
of forty eight hour friends
light but for the weight of a pack
no ball and chain holding you back
you’ve beaten back the beaten track
no home except where you hang your hat
go it alone instead of taking out a loan
no mortgage on your future
you live cash and carry
question and answer
living affirmation and hopes
reasons and regrets
right out of your system
and right around the globe.

Despite a do-before-you-die list
now carved down by half
tonight your eyes can’t help
but pave new paths
all over with old memories
your confusion
of those old feelings
too consuming
to have sustained
too childish
to have lasted
too sincere
to have survived
too real
to have forgotten
or ever really gotten over
no matter where you go
the world over.

The date eventually rolls round
three years now
since leaving after that final-fight
to go and find out she was...

Said amongst the latter
and bitterer
blows you exchanged
she uttered, (almost a whisper)
a kind of curse
and worse
than any other thing
she tried to put on you
that June Twenty Two,

Angry tears welled in her eyes
fell defiant as she prophesised
for all your living
outside the box
no matter what
you won’t ever,
you would never,
now and forever
be able to find
another woman
like her.


was wrong

She was wrong about everything,

except that.





Geoff said...


yeah. This is the best thing you've ever written. Post up the new edit. Or send it to me.

Randall $tephens said...