Staceyann Chin

The Sun Sets...

violent and beautiful in Syracuse

I am humbled to be
breathing under the hand of such splendor

from a hotel room
I hate

disdain the sameness
the fake familiar of rooms other people have fucked in

everyday
I am presented with these white
biege
sheets that look like the ones I slept in two cities ago

and suddenly the sun blooms naked
and lazy across the hazy sky

and the window is the only place
I want to be

hold this moment
it will never hold you again

speak in full tones
echo the timber

of these rays falling vulnerable
and I am human
and breakable
and today
I am aching to be better

an old lover understands

only because she has known me too long
argued with me
for ages

and the red seeps away
dragging the orange
the pale yellow

the silver lags
painting the tops of buildings white

shades I wish I could smear on canvas
but I am only drawn to the rearranging of words

images make me
silent

chairs
beds
desks and pillows

comfort created
achieved in the lamp of these needs hidden
and stretched translucent

I wish I was better with people
more polite

I am better with cloaked words
and lonely sunsets

sumnambulist
I lean against the glass and stare

not even the moon holds my tongue so certain
and I am inches away
from Ani
Di
Franco
and her poems melting songs

and when she sings
it is right that I am alone

inside my skin
among all these voices
tramping brave over this new terrain

syracuse
and I don't know where I will be tomorrow
perhaps Providence

and it might be fate to be headed to a place with such foresight

drunk on my own sorrow

wallowing

but still breathing

keep sending me words
I ingest all I can,

Staceyann

Posted by staceyann at October 15, 2004 06:26 PM