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the giant

'meus pectus pectoris ist plubum album
tamen meus animus est phasmatis casus mortuus'

i sat eating pizza, trying more or less succsessfully
not to think too much of the guilty carbohydrates.
pizza, covered with hot pepper: for an instant
i am a 15 years old again
in gritty ozone park, new york, taking a break from
my  bach and my
screaching 4 rank schlicker,
trying not to look at the
gum chewing girls in tight pants walking by
the big plate glass window.

i hear the voice of giant,
and that is not at all surprising
because i can see her as well,
directly across the street.
she is crying and i hear her.

'where are all my friends and admirers?'
she cries,
'have they all gone into the cold ground?
won't someone still love me?
i know i am old, but am i not still beautiful?'

my heart calls back to the heart of the giant,
'i can love you'
forsit ego vadam causa vestri
pectus pectoris canto
quod vestri animas ut tripudio iterum

many times i had to call
before the giant heard me
over her own lamentaion

and when at last she did,

'you are but a sniveling boy,
a dirty child playing amidst
the gleaming boots of mighty men.
there is nothing you can do for me.
oh where have the other giants gone?'

caldwell per orange
14. April, 2008