Whimsical writings

The Way We Are Now by Tim Dlugos

1.
We both got tired
of people walking away,
and walked away.

Nobody’s waiting now
for our next move.
Even the FBI stopped
following you. We stopped
resisting. Now we can
write it down. We both
are faggots, we both
left home. Now we can
say it. Now we are
sounds to each other
on office phones.

2.
When I say I want
to see you, I mean
I want to be you, I mean
I want to know it
the way we used to want
to know each other, as well as
we thought we knew ourselves
and the way we were sure
we’d know the way we are now,
but couldn’t have guessed after all.

3.
I write you poems.
I call you up and talk about dykes.
I cut off all your hair and put it in an envelope.
I fall in love with the space behind your eyes.
I tuck you in and sing to your remaining ovary.
I won’t take off your bra.
I think you’re so nifty.
I think you’re so blue.
Your laughing. Your car.
I think about you, much of the time.
I think I don’t know what to think.
I think of the inevitable fireworks
if I were more a man, or you were.

I want to be a woman when I think
I could be like you.

Labels: Tim Dlugos