September 16, 1996

Emily Plays Rough

er in slow motion
And else still
Who would guess
That pent-up trouble lurks within
Getcha when you most expect it
Dig ya in the ribs
It hurts
To lose control and flinch a bit
To squirm because you gotta
(aye, there's the rub)
And then expel a breath or two
Must attempt revenge
Or go down trying
One of those times
When giving up isn't all that bad

September 6, 1996

Lavid

Still hearts produce.
Quiet has held enough
when all that has prefaced
is commotion.
It is the most communication
and the least fake.
It doesn't have or need an name.
Polarized, mysterious yet known,
the uncomfortable comfort,
the disquieting quiet,
the surreal practicality,
is more than enough.
More understanding is more questioning.
More than enough.