“But Don’t Touch”
I lived in one of the tenements,
so loud and confused, the neighborhood
stretched out, scared, skinny,
squinting payback when I creaked open the door.
I just sit in the back now
and we never talk much of today.
I discovered the dark outside,
its hands covering another lie
when I closed my eyes.
I chase all its changing,
kicked in the gut, blood on my chin.
How could I go back?
I closed myself from me.
The feeling of eyes leaning against the inner door,
it’s my way now. A one-way street. Alone
I don’t feel anything.
Title and Poetry ©2014 Joseph Hesch
Late last night, I threw an offer out on Twitter and Facebook for a collaboration. This photograph was speaking volumes to me, but not in a language I understood. My friend Joe Hesch asked to see the photograph and as soon as I sent it to him, he told me he had something already written that might fit. I was blown away when I read it. I call moments like this, serendipity. A fortuitous happenstance of inspiration, colliding. This piece is one in a series of stories he’s written. Joe has been one of my very favorite writers since we first met years ago on Twitter and I’m honored he found my photograph worthy of his words. If you haven’t done so yet, please stop by and read more of Joe’s stories and poetry at A Thing for Words. You’ll also find him on Twitter as @JAHesch.