Poem: Impossible Kremlin
Near the Kremlin is where I will wait for you.
I hope that you are here come the morrow.
For alone, standing next to this
beautiful structure
I wish you to be here.
And alone, standing alone
I am cold.
This wind spits at me rain.
Those passing shoot me looks.
I shudder.

where are you?

You told me kind words
and gave me warm thoughts.
A hug was not far away.
Now I am alone here,
Here in a country
Here in a city
Places I have not visited.
This Kremlin throws its dark blanket
over my head.
It tries to comfort me
but is too large
and too strange
to provide any real care
and is, in fact, smothering me.
It smothers me with its fat raindrops.
It smothers me with its heavy blanket.
And of all things
that this creation could do,
it reminds me,
that there is this man
who has yet to take me
from the beautiful monstrosity.
I wish that this pain
was not my own...
perhaps you, dear Kremlin,
perhaps you can shoulder some of the weight
that you reminded me to bear.

(written 12 April 2001)