Poetry: 2 Poems by Gary Lundy
there are those few whose sense of space fills a room
no matter square feet. you have been caught up in that attempt for years. while i sit alone even when surrounded by familiar faces. am asked later why i hadn't shown up. none of this is true nor can it matter to those who stay out of sight. at night the voices and i converse about the cost of death diving headstrong into the silky shadows. they should have been out enjoying the day instead of constructing cold steady. they didn't hear it at all when neighbors slammed accidentally moving an unneeded table against our door early morning. sounds that engulf in their particular space erasing some voices muted.
i had thought of suggesting we have dinner together. then realized that would be impossible. some distances too great to traverse.
they are convinced that it is only through layers of translation
that we come to know the other as not mere appendage. even i have bad fridays emptied of motivation or company stored away in the small windowless room. you are only in love with yourself they think. all the while we seek insight from others concerning your missing and presumed lost. given my eyesight it's a wonder i can differentiate bird from branch. the danger is that you may turn into them. those you most despise. while one unknown suicides as day turns over in our mind. perhaps it's that chance recalls too clearly. don't you ever get done with that stuff they mock. wrap the smelly coat overthrown dust particles sting our eyes. where have they gone in such a sudden hurry. living as they do inside themselves it grows more and more difficult to discern you from our or they from your. a middle of mixed messages and shoes that don't fit. or shoes that break open the skin raw and pink.