photo: C. Bard

yeah i got lost/sometimes into those kinda feelings
i can’t explain good/like you said melvin here lately
i find myself/going to bed with people i’m not so sure
if i really even like/well the feeling i can dig

you know/strictly & simply pelvic exercise/those sad
little free excursions out across the clear blue water/like
i went to this party with henry/& left my mind at home
in a book/& she said i know you/what’s your name she said

i write poetry too/that i never let anybody see/& that
was cool/but then she kept saying she had to be her & do
her thing/& i didn’t feel like listening to somebody say
they had to be them/who the hell else could they be

dig/earlier that night/i was home alone by myself
talking to some old loves on the phone/& i had my history
in bold type facing me/& who wants my headlines making
noise in their mind all night long/so i just ignored her

& where i was i couldn’t explain good/then henry said man
she thinks you’re gay/& i said joking/shit i ain’t even happy
& i got further lost/into the night/like the last survivor of
some endangered species/wondering where’s the faces i know

anyway/my point is not reasons/we both recognized a voice
wanting to be found/cause like later that night/i awoke
& while she slept i was peeking into her face/& her mouth
was making these tiny noises/like a nest of baby birds


© 1995 Melvin E. Brown