for anne, for living

what was it about living, for living
was the problem for you.
words electric; life giving compulsion and spirit
and they spun a sticky web for you,
they buildt something made
to catch you.
the slit was enough to pass through
opening your mouth to death's morsel
still you pursed those ruby red's in affectionate disgust
and smiled in the accomplishment.

oh, i am your friend
i can glance across the table at you,
all neuroses and knuckles
stale smokes and cool looks, you are
amidst the smooth smoke balloon strings
they escape your face where they are able, driving heavenward
but not by choice
why would they want to

and what you needed was enclosed
in those four walls
if only you knew.
a radio, some words flush on the pages of a book
and the ink in the typewriter
because you wouldnt use a pen

did your Icarus ever ascend to you, Anne?
from the exciteable sun, for
you tamed the sea and sky
buoyed by words
just living to die.