i took a photograph of the sun
and stared into it all day.
my eyes don't hurt-
not even a little, i swear-
but i keep thinking about
(over and over it rolls,
like i'm pawing at a yarn
)
a picture of you i've kept
it has neither the shine
nor the new photo snap
of my dark room Solaris
but it burns my eyes
sears them and tears them
rolls them in their orbits
like the thought of you
spins my mind in ellipses
...
i mean to say, though,
that my thoughts go
wherever it wills to go
and who am i to know
who i am in the snow
someone smashed the moon to pieces last night
and flakes and shards of it fell to earth and froze.
a blanket of soft, downy moonstone, shining bright
and ball shrinking cold covered the streets and signs
and turned a four wheel world into a two leg town.
pure as white and as free to have and to hold-
until it melts fast and free away- as light and love.
rutger haur just killed his creator in Blade Runner and he did not enjoy one minute of it.
