There was a time,
not all that long ago,

relative to the age
of this containment sphere,

when I could flash
a word
like a flame
from a cigarette lighter.

Yeah,
back then,
my hair caressed
my shoulders
and I thought peace
could be won
with song.

But where do I stand now?

My hair
has changed
its stripes,

though it still insists
upon hanging
on to me
in fear
of becoming
lost forever.

I am surrounded
by a new breed.
I am inside a box,
feeling as though
I am looking
in from
the outside.

The bar
has been raised,
although I still
visit it frequently.

Now,
words are words worth
less than any
of the passion
with which they
once gifted me.
And eagles fly
above me,
dropping their speech
upon my forgetfulness.

Or are we among
sexual
intellectuals,
who want
all the world
to know
they know?

COPYRIGHT 2001 by Michael Bonanno
LOC Reg. #TXu 988-155

Reproduction of
“Reaching Back for
Nothing” or any part
therein without the
express written
permission of Michael
Bonanno is prohibited
unless the reproduction
meets The Copyright Act
“fair use” doctrine,
(title 17, U. S. Code)..

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