didn’t think
a song
could do that
to me
still
but damn
there it is
the memory
oh
the memory
again
other writing
but sometimes: for ARE
one should
rise above
the pettiness
jealousy
vindictiveness
of others
but sometimes
it feels good
to dip
low enough
to knock them
on their asses
on roads
roads go
in two directions
the trick
is turning
right
even if
it’s left
remembering LA: for Maureen
you sauntered
into the house
for dinner
where three
slightly hungover
writers lived
and asked
in that off-handed
manner of yours
who do you
have to fuck
to get a drink
around here
and though I can’t
remember
who cooked dinner
or poured your drink
I do know
how my heart
lights up
remembering
at the end
there is
no escape
never was
your actions
good and bad
await you
at the end
here’s that one day
once
I said
the things
you say
will one day
come back
to haunt
you
wherever it blows
the wind
the wind
wherever it blows
i follow
in Sprüngli in Zurich on Mother’s Day Weekend: for my mother
here
so much chocolate
you would be
in heaven
if you weren’t
there
already
each day this pain
each day
this pain
my heart
thinking
of you
empty restaurants
listening to
the ticking
of clocks
in empty restaurants
and thinking of
old lovers
long buried
in memory
Leonard Durso 