ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 7
HELP ME
this poetry has grown too heavy
I beg you help me lift it
raise your end to the light
I will inch mine into darkness
between the two of us we can carry
its confusion to the messy river
and wash it till it sees again
when it squirms hold tight
if it falls we must fall with it
if it dies one of us is guilty
if it runs we must try to catch it
if it becomes a fugitive we will track it
in disguise as if we were married
signing false names in the ledger
nervous when we reach the place
where we can no longer read the maps
untiring determined brave cunning
if we die on the search
there will be others to take it up
one chosen by me one by you