3.30.2006

There was something bleak about my night.
As I walked beside a white Volvo under an orange sky,

I was silenced with wonder.
((Finally it rains. a perfect, BC sort of rain.))




And under fluorescent lights, I was asked about grief.
I quickly panicked at my loss of memory,
Then realized that I do not truly know what it looks like.
And how it is felt.

Then I panicked about my lack of loss,
And about all the anticipatory loss that I know must be coming.
It’s really difficult to know that it’s creeping up on me.
And that there is no way around it.
A great uncle and a neighbour, that’s all I know.
I have never felt the pain of true loss.
I have never felt the worry of a mother.
A mother giving birth, a mother waiting up at night,
a mother who doesn’t trust the father of her children:

Is this life?

And I just want a cigarette more than anything, ever.
There is satisfaction in restraint, but it is faint.

3 Comments:

Blogger Sharelle said...

Janzen -

Thank you for your poetry. Its so real, so tangible, I feel like I can touch it. And that makes it good - and so far from cliche. For these things, and so many more I find your mind fascinating and intriguing.

March 31, 2006 12:04 p.m.  
Blogger the tapered pant said...

i thought you wanted me to quit calling you a child of the night...i guess we all know you really are one.

April 01, 2006 7:16 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

sometimes loss gives life. no point in fearing. no point. death COMES. loss COMES. and that makes life beutiful. that makes life mysterious. worth living. worth living. We all lose. everyday. never say you haven't loss.
...
fear is the little death that brings total obliteration

April 03, 2006 12:41 a.m.  

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