Tom Beckett



Notes Between Notes

You say
You’re allergic
To allegories.

“Nobody rescues
Anybody anymore.”


*

“How reliable
Am I?”

Are you
Really talking
To me?


*

“The secret
Of ventriloquism
Is yours.”

Listening’s form
Of resistance.


*

“Are we
Here yet?”

Eros’ flight
Metastasizes into
Swelling absence.


*

“What rhymes
With you?”

Poetry must
Be an
Uncertain map.


*

“I couldn’t
Find peace.”

The geography
Of this
Isn’t cathartic.


*

“Did you
Forget to
Call me?”

These ghosts
Aren’t wrong.


*

“I saw
Your shadow.”

A place
That was
Never fleshed.


*

Some you.
Some me.

“It’s not
The same
Between us.”


*

A ribbon
Of pleasure.

“Who unravels
In front
Of you?”


*

“How many
Senses do
You have?”

The truth
In _____.


*

“The skin
Of ghosts.”

Shared mirrors
We were
Multiplied within.


*

“Can you
Hear me?”

We’re two
But maybe
Too many.


*

Noise =
Nuance minus
Our menus.

“Where’s the
Fucking remote?”


*

“I’m in
A hole.”

All knowledge
Is partial,
But still…


*

The pornography
Of being
And having.

“Why are
You me?”


*

“Write it
Down now.”

Vague notions
Of who
We are.


*

Vowels flow
Through sentences.

“Our museum
Of feelings
Is closed.”


*

Gravel in
Your voice.

“The road
Is long
And unspoken.”


*

“The solution
Isn’t in
The solution.”

Dark rooms
Before pictures.


*

Our outlines
As trajectories.

“Do ghosts
Go away
Or stay?”


*

“The world
Doesn’t exist.”

You and
I fold
Into others.


*

Something is
Always missed.

“I don’t
Know what
I know.”


*

“Is nudity
Ever gratuitous?”

Does one
See what
One shows?


*

“Don’t look
At me
Like that.”

The antinomies
Of mirrors.


*

Notes Between Notes (cont'd)

 
 
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