two poems for kimberly

this is about seventy per cent a malayan form called a pantoum.
tip o' the tongue to dylan thomas, who as far as i know, never wrote one.

talk kimberly

all we ever talk about is pain,
usually old, usually mine.
we talk like it's the weather, like the rain.
i guess that we've grown old before our time.

usually old, usually mine,
but you're the one who's dying of the light.
i guess that we've grown old before our time.
we talk as if our words could set things right

but you're the one who's dying. of the light
you find in love and pain, you do not tell.
we talk as if our words could set things right
because we fear no thing can make us well

because we know the most that we can do
is guess. if we grow old before our time
we'll rage against our dying till it's through.
i feel the weight of language on my mind

of humor, and the prayer that we both live.
these words of love and pain for you are mine.
they're weightless, but it's what i have to give.
usually old words, sometimes rhymed,

and every day, like weather, like the rain.
all we ever talk about is pain
with prayer and humor, plan in case we live.
it's weightless, but all that we have, we give.

dissociated talk kimberly
written with the help of emacs' meta-x-dissociate-text

i tried to write one before the rain,
old words, but all the one who's dying.
use us well

because we live.
it's what we can do,
is guess. if we grow old words, sometimes pain
will write things right

but i'm the tongue of the dying light this
is all about pain,
as usual.
we and pain, you're what i have in love and pain, plan
in case our words grow our time
we'll rhyme.

usually old, usually old words, sometimes a pantoum.
it's well

because talk is as if our time.
usually old, usually mind
of humor, but what if it's
our words' case we weigh?
guess to not tell.
we tally old words of love and prayer
we both talk as if we like the rain.
i guess you are no thing of the light.
i guess dylan thomas makes us well

because we cannot tell.
we talk as if we live
through these words.
i feel to give my mind is pain.

(October 1997 or thereabouts)