Monday, April 20, 2009


a detailed account of the days and the number of times
certain named people underwent examination and various treatments
so now the memo sits after a few years stored
eyes pour over the days and the entries
names and roles a diary of uncertainty and sleep deprivation
and now this becomes news written how long can we go
without sleep, water, reading Tolstoy
remembering war and peace and seeing parallels and tangents
and some say release all of them, the memorandums not people
let them see the light of day if we dare to know
what we think we should know now
male writers write to an end leading to the father son hug
from the prodigal son’s diary, asking if you’d like to have a catch
waiting for their ship to come in without noticing the harbour’s vista
the memo covers the time and the people
like a blanket on a chilly evening
but knowing more than the person who wishes you ill will
kicking off the blanket and stalking the game
no joystick, arrow keys, shortcuts behind screens
more game than the game, more tenacious than the manifesto reader writer
more Che than Che could be wheezing climbing a hill in the rain
we didn’t get the memo

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