Portside

by Ting a Ling

Posted to Poetry on 2004-04-23 22:00:00

I know by heart every
word we passed over your
last ten years. I know because they
were so few. “saying I love you
is like pointing a loaded gun
at someone” (Kurt Vonnegut). How true…
you might as well invite tragedy into
your home. So we left love unsaid,
and now I have such memories!
Remember I was so junked
at your funeral, remember tears or no tears?
Who knows. Faulkner had that outro about
the last human voice…the will…
crying out to the last, the bitter
end. In my dreams that last voice sounds like you.
I think the most beautiful…the most elegant of all human communiques
to this point is the tentative hello?…hello?…when
you’re not sure if anyone is really there.



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