Monday, December 05, 2011

Alan Semerdjian: Crush

I once had a crush on the word
how it moved in and out of my life
          its slippery cil rounding corners

and rubbing up against the hard con
     how I misused the word
on more than one occasion
          meaning almost clear

at once here and never here
     there but never somewhere.
And though the past may sound
          a lot like history

it was about love, and it’s always
     about love, this forever
balance of stretching and returning
          this push and pull

like some sad scavenger hunt or
     tug of war for the soldier
never quite back and the object
          of his affection

like a word broken at the syllable
     the need for more space
her always here, her never left.
          This is how it goes.

Time ends up making a postcard
     from him to her
and two rooms on either side
          of the world

his boots heavy with memory’s lead
     in one bed, her need
to reconcile in the other, and me
          still in love

with a word, with an idea
     all of us
are so desperately
          trying to understand.

This poem has appeared in the online version of ARARAT.

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