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Cell Door.

 Not all of them are murderers. Rapists. Thieves. Those are the
takers. The ones who, as children, probably picked everything up off the
ground. Their slightly ungentle hands, eager and mud-caked from digging,
securing all their findings deep into pockets. Bottle caps, a coin of
two, small lizards, eventually working their way up to people though
that would happen much later. Others need respite. The drug users. The
givers who can't give away all blood carries. They think everything
is a bomb or wish it was, a benefactor of instant change, ready to go
off, loud and forever like it is inside the heart. When you feel too
much, peace is to live sedated. We punish those who stop feeling.
 I should've been in jail years ago; for the way I turned, a wind
vane changing direction, away from her voice. Her gunfire pleas shelling
my back while I strolled on passed the pawnshop, then the city's
only jazz club. That was Corpus Christi, TX. Years before snow turned
all the Virginia pines to silver in my window. The cold, unbiased are of
the moon forcing glitter into their evening gowns as it must've
long before our ships and planes were made of wood. It's just
easier to get around now. Leaving grad school and showing up back home
in mid semester, killing the best of my mother's desires, took
almost no effort at all.
How others define the world is a song you've never heard, and they
make it up as they go along, like Cole Porter high on Chicago, or
children playing a game they can't name. I've got an idea for
one: everyone go outside and find something, rename it, emphasize your
favorite way to use it, then show someone else. I'll go first. You
can drive this all the way to the ocean, light your cigarettes with it,
listen to music, and make love for long hours in the back seat while the
sun watches you smile away your sins. I call it a Cell Door.
Your turn. 


ROB TALBERT was born and raised in San Antonio, Texas. His work has appeared in Ninth Letter, Sow's Ear Review, Southern Poetry Review, and on his mother's fridge.
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Title Annotation:two poems
Author:Talbert, Rob
Publication:The American Poetry Review
Article Type:Poem
Date:Mar 1, 2009
Words:426
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