I just spent the night with you
But you weren't here
And I don't know how you did it
But you sent me your life
In megabytes on plastic burned
With laser beams -
They glow red you know
Of course you do,
Why wouldn't you?

Once upon a time
I put my voice to tape
It made my father happy
I'm not sure why
But I did it
It was fun
They came back to me
When he died
And when I play them
For the life of me
He's there listening
With me

Did you know
In 1987 when you stood
In front of a microphone
Making people laugh
With your very serious poem
(life's a joke, glad you got that)
That your words would play
On something not invented yet
Hundreds of miles away
And possibly say more
To this very singular audience
Than they did back then?

The first time I heard your voice
I held my breath
You asked me am I boring you
No, never, couldn't happen
Your words dance in magical
Whirl winds, mesmermizing
I do listen
I am burning my little red laser
In my brain so I won't forget
The incredible things you say

Oh dear, and I heard a poem
Of love gone wrong with a plastic person
And I heard a poem of reality
Sneaking into a love struck boy
Feeling sad man things
From a first good bye
I wonder if she ever saw
The words you said but then again
Sometimes it's better not
Eloquent, yes, efficient
No doubt what the feelings were about.

I could write a story
About this evening with you without you
I could write a play
They could make some indie movie with
This not-quite-youngish lady
Listening to stuff on CD ROM
Writing her own poetry
On a glaring screen
Oops maybe I just did that

Well, from this very verbose
Lyrical soul
Once again, you've taken
The words from my brain
I don't know what to say
I stand in a hush to your artestry
And giggle, I treasure our silly
Laughing hours spent
Gaining interest
Banking our spirits
In creative rivers

You sent me a poem
Not to be outdone
I sent you one back
You sent me an opus
Oh man, what a challenge
Ah but you know me well enough by now
To understand that
Aries women never back down
And they never forget
The sword handed to them
This is the mightier pen
Is it not?

So give me some time
A tiny tot of inspiration
A old, old tape or two
And you can spend the night with me
Without me
Like I did you.

(c) March 13, 2002 C. M. Harris