learning our lines

here is another poem. once again, i couldn't get the spacing to come out as i wanted, but i think don't think it affects it too much.



learning our lines

(or, the love song of richard moran)


can you give me the first word?
-i forgot my line.
“this is just a conversation: there is no script,
so its up to you alone.”

in that case i need a moment
to decide what i should think.
i must consult my reasons: whatever the result,
i’ve only me to thank.

if i am set on course by none but me
that seems good grounds for boasts,
but is a single me directing me: the me-in-me, or
a thousand little beasts?

i suppose there is a something in me
that is not there in my dog,
though where this author lives and works: i cannot find the place,
no matter how i dig.

“this philosophic joking
is plain attempt to stall,
and though it makes me smile: i don’t forget, and
i wait your answer still.”

you know i want to watch you smile
as long as we might live,
from back to front
from mind to gut
there is no part or piece of me, that fails to say:
it is you i love.