Tuesday, November 11, 2008

A Table, Two Poems

What we have is
A table.
Two poems.

And a conversation
That neither of us began.

But as we speak the lines
We say everything in between.
We spill
Over the distance of the table
That separates us.

We move our legs back
Under and behind our chairs
Scared of touching
That which lies
beneath the lines.
Knowing that we will overflow
Over and above
The table
Knocking it over
Even as our bodies strain
To keep back
All that drives us forward.
Two poems
And a conversation.

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