Polynomial
Photo:
Ugur Akinci
by Ugur AKINCI
-- for Gullu
After you've
left I took up geometry. I started to sleep on your side
of the bed, pulling your pillow over my head, as though
claiming your space can suffuse the parched hours with
moisture of understanding. As though a flag makes a country,
a bull makes Spain, but we still salute somehow.
There
is a change in the plans. I said "plans" not
"plants"but the black elephant ear in the living
room started to whisper a polynomial today. The dwarf
blue spruce on the other side of the shed is still resisting.
I
never looked at your shoes up close. Water into clouds.
When does private property become a memento? I hold the
vibration of your soapy feet in my hands, gently, resisting
the urge to inhale them. I marvel at how a symmetric body
wears out its surroundings asymmetrically. I thought we
were equals.
Variegated
ginger, Japanese sedge, hardy begonia. Your plants are
left behind but sorry I can't talk to them. If we're a
part of nature why do they skip on their income tax? Soil,
river and clouds should be enough to solve it but the
silence in the kitchen, alone in the garden facing an
infinite cello, affirms the mystery of this inequality.
God is Texas hold em no limits.
Now
that you're gone I'm busy putting our names on chairs
and buildings. Your volume is empty.Your weight was an
exchange taken for granted. I bring your bottle of Jean
Paul Gaultier to my nose to resolve the Big Bang. But
these get-well-quick schemes never last. Disorganized
crime is hilarious and explains why exposed surfaces delight
ambulance chasers. Movie stars watch our questions in
amazement. The lint of daily wrestling sticks to our sweaters,
hearts and faces.
Separation
is easy for ribbon grass and oil. I'm in my pockets riding
my hands. Are there any operas penned after gas station
owners? Or comedies about software developers? Every situation
dials up a different leaf, punctures a classified vein.
Pressing into service a silence that absorbs answers.
They
dispatched us from math central to cool Africa. But as
soon as you've left we split into three. The camera, shadow,
and memory.
Humbling
Realization
This mail will always
be delivered
Either to me
"Or Current Resident."
_ . _
E-mail: ugurakinci@aol.com
http://tork.blogspot.com
©Ugur Akinci
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