Crash
I wonder if I told you that today I am Howard Hughes,
that I am scrubbing and washing and counting
and repeating and repeating and rocking,
would you dry me and stop me and cradle me,
would you tell me that you will be my Catherine
or my Kate?
Would you tell me that I can call you whatever I want
even if today it’s airplane or rocket launcher or Mr. Senator,
Mr. Senator, Mr. Senator?
I wonder if you told me that today you don’t want insanity,
that today you are normal and grounded
and focused and present and healed,
would I stir you and tell you that your skin is softer
when you tremble, that I am quieted when we shake,
that I want you to be off the ground, to fly?
that I am scrubbing and washing and counting
and repeating and repeating and rocking,
would you dry me and stop me and cradle me,
would you tell me that you will be my Catherine
or my Kate?
Would you tell me that I can call you whatever I want
even if today it’s airplane or rocket launcher or Mr. Senator,
Mr. Senator, Mr. Senator?
I wonder if you told me that today you don’t want insanity,
that today you are normal and grounded
and focused and present and healed,
would I stir you and tell you that your skin is softer
when you tremble, that I am quieted when we shake,
that I want you to be off the ground, to fly?
4 Comments:
where is this one posted at on salty?
it's excellent.
doh, i bumped it up the other nite in spit.. lol
this is wonderful, christine. soft and edgy all at once.
One wanders that of a loved one.
And I wonder how many would be there.
So damm good.
Joe
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