No Architecture Can Forget / new poems 2010

At a Fraction of a Fraction of 24 Frames Per Second

someone buried the lights
in the snow

mistook me for someone they knew
stumbling these winter hidden streets

cold hands
reaching for coattails

dead stares
searching for connection

but the film is spilling across
an endless frozen floor

scenes, brittle, underexposed,
out of synch with the static hum
of hidden ballasts

so i skip frames
where i was not nearly drunk enough
to forget i was lonely, to forget i was fucked
and forged ahead splicing together frames
where i was left wandering blizzards
longing, looking for the glow
(buried beneath more than a decade of snowfall)
and the quality of light in winter
that summer, she will never understand

now that i am unrecognizable
and holding your warm hand,
watching an ice age pass by
in the blink of an eye
at a fraction of a fraction
of 24 frames per second