Wednesday, September 23, 2015

form p.1 on Mon., Sept. 21st

Black sharpied Xs linger, marking flesh.
The smell of youth
obvious in a place like this
confused glances fly by
clear glass not tainted by caramel colored booze.

One lost in a a chessboard of people.


-----


A miniature man
dances excitedly in 
circles around a corduroy
chair.

A great ripe pear rests 
in the arms of the 
chair thinking about family
problems.

The room is white with 
black curtains.


-----


I didn't know
as I blurted words.
You were there.
I felt like the leaves 
not yet ready to fall.

But soon forgiven,
for leaving too soon,
still mad at my fallen self.


-----


When spiraling hills decayed,
leaving behind a concrete
metropolis, often compared to a utopia.

But even there,
dilapidated steel and rock
infringes on the beauty
of what a city is meant
to be, odd shaped
building with fogged 
yellow glass, rest below
chrome and silver

pillars to the sky.

Thge impression of man
learning to walk upright,
as he leaves his cave.

No comments:

Post a Comment