Postcards From  Texas #1
by david moses fruchter
Date: Wed, 24 Jun 1998 23:12:35 -0500

one side of the postcard bears a minimalist sketch, in charcoal,
of the merciless logic of the heart and repercussions thereof.
the postmark reads, "Troubadour, Texas".
 

a flock of wild game birds scatter, and i watch each carry a piece of my name
to the sky.  i pin this note to thought’s swift arrow and let fly: a wing is
pierced.  it belongs to the song under your breath, as you sit and look out
tomorrow’s window.  this i know will come back to you.

i’ve been slipping in and out of geological time here; the landscape has
shifted considerably since the last time i asked directions, and i fear my
destination may now be behind me.

still i proceed.  i give chase to pursuit itself, and "turning back" becomes a
paradoxical notion, wordplay, meaningless.

if i make it to the center, i’ll tell her you said hello.

love, david