Courtney Sina Meredith


drove to your house            parked across the road          ’m n town 

’m selfsh            know                        ’m sorry 

ddn’t get out                     wanted to                 chckened out 

                 sold everythng    gave up smokng            took up Jesus 

went to Caro   wanted to rng            ddn’t thnk enough tme had passed 

mssed your voce             wasn’t n New York                    wanted to say sorry 

know               don’t deserve your tme                                  hurt you 

ddn’t mean to             had ths dea was somewhere else        was wrong

wasn’t n Pars   ran out of cash n Morocco    got work n a town wth no name 

                 cleaned rooms                     poured drnks          worked lke a dog 

wrote to you                              never sent the letters.     burnt them n a feld 

took pctures of the smoke             mssed your laugh                 went to Rome 

lt a candle at the baslca                 prayed for you            sent my love 

know                       should’ve prayed for myself 

the night sky is an immigrant

coming from somewhere unknown 

half the group went into the past 

where the food was good and the coffee was hot 

but not you and me we made our way 

into thick dust beyond the merry-go-round 

both of us joking about children 

if only we had them to make excuses 

it takes mystery and cunning to do that 

you said with your gaze on a dead canvas 

this is where the artist goes to die 

something that wasn’t in the statement 

you said the lives you tried on never seemed to fit 

especially the one that waited at home 

some of the group came back sick of war 

the one you loved best went into the future 

we saw him by the car on its side downstairs 

with his pale hands smooth on the bonnet 

that was real life that was contemporary 

he told you he only slept with distant women 

so you stayed with me in the present 

perhaps for the rush of complicity 

to oppose yourself until time overlapped 

outside your eyes slid through wet leaves 

beyond the flat field and its buzz of death 

enough to see his long and distant form 

you said it was the earth peeling away and not us