difficult for me
to imagine the chapter,
walking my familiar street
in some other time, before or after
sooner or later, no matter
with no key in my pocket to unlock it
or permission to enter
because my door belongs to another
and the stuff inside there
is someone else’s now
or hasn’t happened yet
in another time, wow
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
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Hi Jack,
I read this through a couple of times. Understanding the context, of you living in Roma with all it's history, and on the street and the house that you live in, with all their history, and the poems you've written about them before, this poem takes on all of its significance. Indeed, wow.
It must feel like living in a multiple universe sometimes, knowing how many people have walked those streets and lived within those walls, almost as if you could hear the sound of their feet, and their echoing voices.
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