Selfish with hugs: I wrap
    Too tight, hold on
            Too long – even
                        Pit bulls wriggle out of
                                                  These
constrictions;
                                                                              Children yell, “Hey!
                                                                                                       Let me go” and scream,
                                                                                                           That play scream, “Run
                                                                                                            Away: he's the monster!”;
                                                                                                     Uncles I wrestle say 
                                                            “He
has energy, good control” 
                                                  (not knowing
that I don't 
                          Want to let them go).
       I loan my coat to
anyone who's cold. I
don't wash it. Not yet.
First there's to wear it:
 To bear something 
     That's more than mine.
                  Worth it: driving
home
                                    smelling like 
my  best 
                                                                   (“best”
– you know, the 
                                                      one who understands 
                                                       How you mean under
                                            What you say out of
                                                     Who
you pretend 
                                       you are
– maybe
                                                   why she
lets
                                   me take
these
                               from her like 
            blood, fast-thin life,
            like I do) friend.
         She fades in time
    But I hold on as long
   as I can to the scent of
  further-than-me, because 
      I do come back: just-me.
            & I'm done with me.
 
The first thing that caught my eye was the formation of this poem. I think it's supposed to be a shadow of smoke? to represent the scent of the best friend and other memories. This is kind of my interpretation of the poem: Though the time has passed and the people are not by the speaker's side, the speaker wants to hold on to those memories as much as possible. The speaker is "selfish" because he's trying to retain anything that is left of the memory and "wraps [too] tight to hold on Too long." The speaker doesn't wash his coat because washing it away would mean forgetting the wonderful memories that came with it.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing!
Eleen Y.