notes on stillness
j. tyler blue
You don't think of him as much as you should. Sometimes you might find yourself mouthing the name of man no one else remembers. Batman begins to feel more real and you stumble across his picture.
"Who is that?"
Pause for breathing. Pause for remembering. Pause for lying.
He spoke of Napoleon
And you caught yourself flying above trains
How did he do that?
How did he paint such an ugly woman?
The wine glass was half filled with a Cabernet Sauvignon that hailed from somewhere in New Zealand. Don Quixote stared wide eyed from the bottle. Lies were everywhere and winter crept in between the cracks. And you think "Wasn't this a new house?"
Your soul makes mention of the date
And you confess a hatred for your body
"Too late now" you think
looking at pictures of busy streets in Paris.
Is that your son there in black and white?
He doesn't answer your calls
He doesn't explain the flowers
"I remember you
With that pained expression on your face
I remember you
With a cigarette proudly from your lips
I remember you"
You compose and put aside.
"This is what they will say" you think
The news reported it as a suicide,
But you knew better.
j. tyler blue ©2003