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March 8, 2005

Posted by anoddphrase in Uncategorized.



to the quad


(PS. i know i¡¯m out of practice, but i¡¯ll edit it in the nonexistent free time that i have later)





A Toast to Remembrance¡ªand Missing, with a Smile




i miss hour-long talks about nothing

            and life

    and everything in-between


                                                                                    (down by the lake,

                                                                                        sitting against a tree

                                                                                                            watching the sun


                                                                                                            on the golf-course




                                                                like it would last forever.]



i miss walking down the stairs after a day of cold, frozen stares from strangers I have known for four years

            and before even seeing

                                                ,just hearing,

                                                                        the laughter

                                                                        and guitar strings

                                                                                                on the couches below

                                                                                  and an argument about sex

                                                                                       and politics and abortions

                                                                                                wrapped into one

                                                                            i¡¯ve yet to hear in polite conversation

                        i miss the drape of arms

                                    and legs

                                                across my stomach

                                                            in laughter

                             because the physical closeness made it just better that way



                                                                                                because we were never afraid to             




            [+and]                                                              cry

                            SHOUT                                                           or be happy







            and because it wasn¡¯t a Rome

                        with politics and drama

                             stretched on beyond sight — and patience

            or a commune

               (despite popular belief)

                        with the free love and sex

                                    exchange,somultiplicitously¡ªwithout a thought




                                                                        though there was love             

                                                                              –but never without a price.


the love of friends


            not quite wrought,

                        or knit                                                              like iron,

                                                                                                   or wool

                                    but gathered

                               and drawn


                                                like particles of atoms

                                                            and electrons

                                                               protons, and neturons





                                                in a circle that changed like the

                                                    colors of the sky


                                                                        clouds shifting

                                                                           in and out

                                                                                    in hazes of pale grey

                                                                                        and strange, bright orange                                                                                                                          startling white

                                                                                                    against periwinkle-blue


                                                                          and the passionate colors of red and gold at




(but the miracle of the sky

                                    and the sun

            was never that it could change, and alter, and reform, going to war with itself

                                                                                                in times of unbalance

                                                                                                  chaos & confusion

                                                                  and still remain¡ªconceptually unchanged



                                                but the fact that it was there

                                                                at all.  )



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