so this was written many moons ago, when the earth was much younger, but i found it the other day and remembered that nothing had been posted here in a while, so have at it. it was actually an early precursor to my story published in shook foil.
When he saw you down on Hampton looking lively and alive,
Was that merely Chinese lantern sleight of hand:
Some fleet memory, behind a veil of candid innocence,
From a former life now lost in shifting sand?
Once you lived alone in splendor, waiting naked by the phone
In the hollow of your swank Manhattan digs,
Cultivating rough hewn calluses, maturity in youth;
It could never be a life of wine and figs.
But self-banishment does not suffice, such penance will not do
On the outskirts of this worn and rusted place.
Dr Heidegger has no respite to soothe this older you,
Etching shadows in that sweet unbroken face.
See the tattered shroud of memory attempt to find a cure:
Tracing specters of emaciated thought
As you struggle with your demons, still skull deep in mellow jack,
Only praying to escape the prize you’ve bought.
The beautiful insanity that lit upon your brain
For a moment, while that adolescent stood
In his ignorance unable to do anything but watch
And perhaps reluctant even if he could,
Has eaten what was left of you, the choicest morsels gone,
Leaving nothing but illusion-riddled scraps
And your burned out elegance lies dying, bleeding in the dust.
Don’t speak now. Please. There’s nothing left to say.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
finally
hello peoples - sorry this poem-ish thing is so late being posted, but i would really appreciate feedback - it seems like it should be the beginning, or ending, of something i have not yet written.
"Scrambled Eggs and Dotted Swiss"
In the kitchen
Scrambling eggs
With anxious hands and
Hair falling from a rag of dotted swiss,
She looks up with broken eyes -
He cannot meet them,
Cannot meet her
So appallingly vulnerable -
He flees from the eggs shells and salt shakers
- From the eyes and dotted swiss.
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