Tonight I do not feel a rush to put my clothes back on
the silence drips out of the darkness
like uneasy ooze through the city wilderness.
I look down on
Sunset, I dream, I wake up.you ask me about dolls and I answer like my father.
I have memories I cannot unlock
with any spell
hell is an unused muse
(that flower oughta be smelled)
I tried hypnosis
I remembered turning in chiffon curtains as a girl
my grandfather’s sawmill breakfast
and leaving you.
there are those the rose remembers
combing through the L.A. noise, her
fire engines bawling past my windows like teenagers’ fuck-howls
the dancer lays down her left ear giving confession to a pillowcase
it all starts somewhere
a mover without a voice
you sing--I dress, I dream, I wake up.
there is someone on Sunset with a basketball now
silence lifts
and cars resume their swims east/west across the strip.
[copyright Taylor Roberts, 2009]
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