Francis: a poem

(Published May 19, 2009)

Can’t sleep tonight
can’t ever, it seems, sleep just right
not without little shocks that come
to undo a more straight and narrow life
the life you deserved, not this jumble

Wake up then, splash some water on your face
You ask a question for which there is no answer

You get stuck, caught on a blank canvas
you kill the canvas, you tear into it
and make something at once broken and finally defined
never returning to life before your hand
brought it screaming into this existence, your existence

I think of all these people I have known
I think of the contours of the body that have particularly affected me

You’re an artist like a killer is a killer
who can only go so long
without succumbing to the itch
to get his knife wet

but you love the work
you love the person
and most love is violence, more or less

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Stephen Hammill

A digital communications specialist with several years experience in media, SEO, digital marketing and public relations, I’ve worked to create content utilizing new media while training others to do the same. Find me on Google+, Twitter and LinkedIn.

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