Friday, May 05, 2006

It didn't matter

that I didn’t get stalked back,
as I was on a one way street
traveling into a vena cava
over and over or
marching into a dirt farm
on the sidewalk

that words I imagined mouthed
deeply, coarsely never blew
into my neck or my eyebrow
the I know, I know
never written, faxed,
IM’d, scribbled on my dirty car

that I was the boy
in the bubble using sign
language, fore-finger-thumbing
the “L”, the curved fist of “E”
the single finger “T”
and continuing
“LET ME OUT”

it did not matter-
my non-reciprocated love

4 Comments:

Blogger Lady Jane said...

I'd say you have some real talent man. I truly enjoy your take on things...very unusual but at the same time, very midwestern.

Nothing quite like a Leta Jo it seems except Leta Jo.

Friday, May 05, 2006 8:56:00 PM  
Blogger Letajo said...

Thanks, Lilac, glad you stopped by to visit the attic here. Hmmm...I'd say there if lots about me midwesterd, even though I try to fight it.
Best,
Christine

Saturday, May 06, 2006 9:21:00 AM  
Blogger _Soulless_ said...

This reminds me, that rejection, in any form (even if it is imagined) is one of the heavier stones life at times (regardless of age) hurls at us. *sigh* This piece strikes me so well. Thank you. ^_^

Sunday, May 07, 2006 11:10:00 PM  
Blogger bike_x said...

Really powerful. I like how you said did not at the end instead of didn't! Maybe this is a pointless comment, but I like that. I have been sitting trying to make a curved fist for an E - interesting!

Tuesday, May 16, 2006 6:47:00 PM  

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