Oh your remarkable soul

Oh your remarkable soul
fraught with desire and this unspeakable worry
beating beneath your breast--emitting waves
affecting migrations adversely with the passion you conjure.
Soaring creatures blinded, beaching boats and bottlenoses.
High above the river bed it echos, answering the beck, with haste they call.
You've taken time now, sat alone, watched days go by and written stories
and still you watch your sheets make waves.
I check the ledger on that day and all days.
Just to collect your thoughts on the matter.

But I've seen the tears you wept and they do not toll for me.
I've seen hell and I've seen Paris.

But to whomever grants my ability to speak
and my ability to write, sing, and hate again
let that remarkable soul leave me now.
If not now, never.
My soles lay warm and paper thin.
From seeing San Francisco in the morning hours.
I crossed the Mississippi in spring and drowned in her majesty.
I hailed the garbage of the Thames and the dirt of Cadiz on the day the world ended.
And still I sit and wonder now, oh remarkable soul
to whom do I write my check of devotion.
For the spool keeps spinning and I keep knitting
the record keeps playing and I keep nodding.
And you keep writing, and I keep reading.
With fervor now I speak your name:
___________


Los Angeles 2010