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David Thomas Broughton
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River Outlet
I was born by the East River outlet,
Always pictured the city in smell.
So I never had mind to travel uptown
It always fucked-up the view of the stars.
For all the strings and the brass there is a longer silence,
for every fear there's a moment of joy.
And I'm sorry
I'm sorry for breaking the stems of the flowers
on the table where we ate our meals.
How you conduct this orchestra
with a wave of your hand or a flick of your wrist.
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This house is not your home my son,
This house is not your home.
For all the strings and the brass there is a longer silence,
All the fear holds a moment of joy.
My arrow is weaker than you would expect,
I would never hurt you.
For my heart is expansive as a sprawling seascape,
And my mind is the wide open sky.
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