[To Mr. Philip Glass]

How does one forget
the watch with the little
phases of the moon
and its ticking
sound
wheighing down
the wrist, the dust that
gathers relentless
on
books and sifts into
the pages
and
makes
itself a home, the burden
of stainless steel tea kettles
in the
morning
and
fragile cars crashing
into
each other
at night (

But
I, too
have
forgotten.
I, too
have
sat
in this chair
in this
room, ripped
my tired skin
apart
and
I have
listened
to this
ageless man
play a
heartsick
(frenzied)

piano.

 
 
I
have been left
alone to
wonder
how it could
ever be possible

    not

to
forget,

how
it could be possible
       to
        stand
from this chair,

how
to             drag
myself to the door, hold
this cindered
body
t o g e t h e r,

how
to
walk outside
and not
fall.
decay.
unfetter.

How, I demand.

How shall I learn to carry this weight
  (this furious song)

without
bursting
headfirst
        into

madness.
)