Brett Fletcher Lauer

The Circle of Breath That Surrounds You

Only superficially this night the smoke
won't stay from my eyes and
the music has an ironic pleasure
for others whose shoulders loosen
to move with or against themselves.

Sometimes I pretend I am a corner
rather than find one or else what
could possibly happen, only imagine
through this window a skyline and
a river which means things are happening

and you are both watching and part
of what is happening, which is sad.
I can talk my way through this and to you,
but by the time the morning comes
the cab will let me out and I will say

something innocuous but only too
innocuous because to say something else
like what are we going to do about this
means all night I will sleep without sleep
rather than just pacing. There is a difference.

There is honor in all this or else what
am I even saying and why go on. I can feel
my arms begin to itch and detach, as
someone else is saying that the circle
of breath that surrounds you is a halo
and haloes are notoriously fleeting.

Even Christian Babies Cry
The feelings of loss, like tiny droplets, do gradually accumulate


© 2003 Electronic Poetry Review