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Mark Page

the electric motor spoke to me

the electric motor spoke to me
of fear of one
known just by we
 
as if the world could hear the drone
on hot summer nights
when we were alone
 
naked
in my poverty
i sat with the motor
and watched TV
 
i knew why she had to go
the electric motor told me so
 
it sings to me when i am sad
 
   i am out loud
   i am not mad
 
i trap my own tormented shell
 
and you will never be set free
the electric motor said to me

Other works by Mark Page...
i am nothing

i am nothing i am no one a wisp of dream which never will come true distant thoughts
and i said goodbye

and i said goodbye to the crystalline dream whence i was a poet, and she a queen while the rest feel few
take yourself between the trees

take yourself between the trees and find the paths out to the sea stumble through the thorn and bria… that cut you face
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i was not

i was not a beautiful boy i was not an angry young man i am not
a painted breeze

a painted breeze seeps through the trees and whispers of its load fences awake no sound to make
you dance like some

you dance like some falling star appearing closer than you actually are before you fade out from my sight
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slipped stars crowd the evening

slipped stars crowd the evening full moon looking on aimlessly driving, caressing imploringly passion condenses on car windows
between the blades of summer grass

between the blades of summer grass where morning dew and spiders pass i left a dream that i once knew a vision of the green and you beneath the red and raisin clays
in the country for the winter

in the country for the winter the ice sleeps on the pond the geese are slowly swaying as the cold does drive them on i am listening for some one
 1
i am lost

i am lost in secret keeping i must end the shadow’s sleeping tear my heart away
tracks

tracks into the night beneath the moon reveal no light reflect no pain
they trade their addictions

they trade their addictions for brass coins and coffee the saints’ names and numbers they tape
a sound falls from forever

a sound falls from forever to my ear a train across the trestle on the river you may listen



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