Remember those old idioms our teachers used to tell us,
'Aim for the moon and even if you miss you'll land among the stars',
of results, results, A's, and maybe, just maybe if they had time
a moral or two?
Recall the teachers who didn't do it anyway.
Listen to my breath, your life, it's going to stretch far far ahead-
Bullshit.
Do you remember when we laughed and said ‘one day’
which is coming sooner than I thought it was.
We were on bold coloured swings and slides and the world was just
my house, your house.
It’s not that funny after all.
Then, how many years has it been since we’ve lost that magic?
It frightens me more than I realise, that I can still smell the stench
of bodies
waiting for lessons to be done with, and now we're scattered.
Do you miss it? I don’t, not at all, not even a little bit, but still.
How long makes too long-
it’s this. And, I imagine, that if I tried to fly my bones would crack
after hitting the pavement
and isn’t THAT embarrassing.
And they say it’s another notch to your name
but it doesn’t sink in
not till the middle of the night (this is the stillness, the heartbeat
between this and that),
-and raise a hand-
There’s no need for age or death to know the rusting of my body,
feel
just the secondshoursdaysyears rolling under my skin creeping through thick blood and
scratching muscle, fat and bones.
