The Pursuit of Poetry (by Jennifer Compton)
It’s later afternoon. It’s always later afternoon.
Pick up all you want to carry. Walk out the door.
Walk towards the setting sun. It’s very importan
to walk towards the setting sun. Of course it means
turning away from all the people you are leaving
with cold eyes unnameable cold eyes.. You could say
I’m going. Don’t know why. I don’t know where.
(Never say goodbye.) Take what you will want.
(This is always very little very little things.)
Now you have walked out of the house where everything
means too much. Now you are walking yp the street until
you don’t know where you are. (Abandon what you thought
you wanted to carry._ You are becoming unclean forgetting
the passwords walking like dancing talking without meanin
back under the moon you never tough you’d see again
in a voice you have heard for a long while white lines
guessing lamp post guessing moon at the confluence of
smell right something jerks twitches flutters something falls
down lies there –
there is the next front door right there.
It’s really important to walk towards the setting sun.
And to never tell where you have been, what you have done.