Tom Beckett
Notes Between Notes
You say
You’re allergic
To allegories.
“Nobody rescues
Anybody anymore.”
*
“How reliable
Am I?”
Are you
Really talking
To me?
*
“The secret
Of ventriloquism
Is yours.”
Listening’s form
Of resistance.
*
“Are we
Here yet?”
Eros’ flight
Metastasizes into
Swelling absence.
*
“What rhymes
With you?”
Poetry must
Be an
Uncertain map.
*
“I couldn’t
Find peace.”
The geography
Of this
Isn’t cathartic.
*
“Did you
Forget to
Call me?”
These ghosts
Aren’t wrong.
*
“I saw
Your shadow.”
A place
That was
Never fleshed.
*
Some you.
Some me.
“It’s not
The same
Between us.”
*
A ribbon
Of pleasure.
“Who unravels
In front
Of you?”
*
“How many
Senses do
You have?”
The truth
In _____.
*
“The skin
Of ghosts.”
Shared mirrors
We were
Multiplied within.
*
“Can you
Hear me?”
We’re two
But maybe
Too many.
*
Noise =
Nuance minus
Our menus.
“Where’s the
Fucking remote?”
*
“I’m in
A hole.”
All knowledge
Is partial,
But still…
*
The pornography
Of being
And having.
“Why are
You me?”
*
“Write it
Down now.”
Vague notions
Of who
We are.
*
Vowels flow
Through sentences.
“Our museum
Of feelings
Is closed.”
*
Gravel in
Your voice.
“The road
Is long
And unspoken.”
*
“The solution
Isn’t in
The solution.”
Dark rooms
Before pictures.
*
Our outlines
As trajectories.
“Do ghosts
Go away
Or stay?”
*
“The world
Doesn’t exist.”
You and
I fold
Into others.
*
Something is
Always missed.
“I don’t
Know what
I know.”
*
“Is nudity
Ever gratuitous?”
Does one
See what
One shows?
*
“Don’t look
At me
Like that.”
The antinomies
Of mirrors.
*
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You say
You’re allergic
To allegories.
“Nobody rescues
Anybody anymore.”
*
“How reliable
Am I?”
Are you
Really talking
To me?
*
“The secret
Of ventriloquism
Is yours.”
Listening’s form
Of resistance.
*
“Are we
Here yet?”
Eros’ flight
Metastasizes into
Swelling absence.
*
“What rhymes
With you?”
Poetry must
Be an
Uncertain map.
*
“I couldn’t
Find peace.”
The geography
Of this
Isn’t cathartic.
*
“Did you
Forget to
Call me?”
These ghosts
Aren’t wrong.
*
“I saw
Your shadow.”
A place
That was
Never fleshed.
*
Some you.
Some me.
“It’s not
The same
Between us.”
*
A ribbon
Of pleasure.
“Who unravels
In front
Of you?”
*
“How many
Senses do
You have?”
The truth
In _____.
*
“The skin
Of ghosts.”
Shared mirrors
We were
Multiplied within.
*
“Can you
Hear me?”
We’re two
But maybe
Too many.
*
Noise =
Nuance minus
Our menus.
“Where’s the
Fucking remote?”
*
“I’m in
A hole.”
All knowledge
Is partial,
But still…
*
The pornography
Of being
And having.
“Why are
You me?”
*
“Write it
Down now.”
Vague notions
Of who
We are.
*
Vowels flow
Through sentences.
“Our museum
Of feelings
Is closed.”
*
Gravel in
Your voice.
“The road
Is long
And unspoken.”
*
“The solution
Isn’t in
The solution.”
Dark rooms
Before pictures.
*
Our outlines
As trajectories.
“Do ghosts
Go away
Or stay?”
*
“The world
Doesn’t exist.”
You and
I fold
Into others.
*
Something is
Always missed.
“I don’t
Know what
I know.”
*
“Is nudity
Ever gratuitous?”
Does one
See what
One shows?
*
“Don’t look
At me
Like that.”
The antinomies
Of mirrors.
*