Secret in Corvallis


That ceiling light

mainstay of a cheap


stares at me from across

the street

It’s the bedroom light

and it’s been on straight

for two weeks

like a memorial flame

burning forever more

A symbol of those first

few months we shared

it calls up such memories

glaring through glass

beams hitting my eyes

and I salivate

You lived there

years ago

in the rundown

building on Western

across from M’s house

I’m here now

staring up at a stranger’s window

Seeing us from a new perspective

reflected in the empty window

Only now I’m preferring the bygone


Me, you, a dresser

roughly pushed

against the windowsill

Your back against the

window glass

curtains open

Three floors up

it’s a tumble worth the fall

These lines jolt and bounce

like the actions of love

raw, spirited making

the making of deed into word


That ceiling light

it’s always on

curtains half open

revealing nothing

but stark possibility

Who lives there now

Is she you

Is she your second


But maybe that’s

the wrong


Maybe it’s a


coupling there

under the never ending

bare light of modern


He’s there

on the floor

under ceiling glare

She’s on a screen

bits coming together

in a glassy lust

They feed on

the power of


until the light

goes out


hours, days of slow

pounding, pacing

text, audio, and images

Now I’m projecting

a part of me

in the past of Secret’s


where we laughed

laid plans, lived

Run amok on coffee

we bounced furniture

against walls and windows

The rest of me is here


jumping through time

our past future places

Ashland, Oregon

Portland, Oregon

That town in Japan

riding bicycles

to the cinema

for the familiar taste of

Hollywood movies

Crashing into each other

on the way there

because we were giddy


magnetically charged

an accident happening

in real time

a tumble worth the


6 thoughts on “Secret in Corvallis

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