Sunday, 9 November 2014

1 New Poem

Something Left Wanting

Stirring echoes raw their penmanship
in torrid currents of snowstorm
floral print against dashing backlight
of flickering cola sign, neon green
1970's embellishment.

Stucco ceilings, peeling painted walls press
against my temples in echoed percussion,
tapping like dentist drills of dripping
faucet senses in the bracketed echo of
tempest space.

A headlight procession drags on in
endless ennui, the bored-driven
gasoline streak putting in smoker's cough
torrent; I hear it ring out in open
window pane.

Unobserved, the disconnected carbon monoxide
detector wires laugh out a braying torment,
they threaten a spark, but never do:
they are red as the '68 air, a grin-smile
absent feline.

I tap morse code forms of gospel
hymns on the particle board furniture,
waiting for some sign of Freedom
July, some dusty dress shoe promise
of futures


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