losing the language


saying a prayer the other night i came to "trespass"
and stopped, the meaning gone.

this has happened before, but not in prayer.

saying you love me breaks at my feet.

not saying i love you brings them running, 
jumping the fence my love

some nights, all the words are gone,
the arms around you are your own
your heat
rolled like a rug with a crook inside, 
breathing quietly 

years from now, we won't speak
in the usual way.  planes will fly 
at furious speed.  we won't look up
even at night, 
money will go to find our voices
the way noise is, a bit slow, then there

the mimick of castrophe
a prayer forgot

i'm opening a beer to wet
as they used to say, my whistle



© Copyright 2000 Peter Chapman

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