the luster of rust
in the late autumn afternoon
stretching out the short walk home
after school, under canopies of maples
their crowns thinning in the winds
kicking horse chestnuts from lawns
onto the greying asphalt of the street
the haze above the foundry pale
it's poison then unknown
floated like ragged sails surrounding us
it's smell of wet rusted iron persistent
until dispersed on gusts of wind and sunlight
returning as caustic drops over night
painting our porches with oxidized dust
adding yet another legendary layer
of our youth upon this street
night cruise
the back streets are alive to-night
with ghosts i need
as much as they need me
shadows of those i knew
shadows of those i didn’t.
lost amid broken boulevards
rusting cars renew themselves.
drive- in’s reappear.
my radio permanently dialled
to Sirius’s 60's on 6,
plays continually
the soundtrack of my desperate years.
alleyways reveal my unrequited lovers
their hands clutching wilted prom corsages
given to them with broken promises,
their eyes offering me a different ending
if only they could sit beside me
in my cherry ride tonight
seduced by Cherish and Unchained Melody
awkward first kisses
the ritual of hand and breast
finally fulfilled..
the lonely want
i would return to that touch
that shared the better light
and threw away indifference
before the ache of turning numb
before the muting of the heart
i would rehear my roaring soul
guilty of what it wants
breaking into my guarded thoughts
each perfect melancholic morning
travelling back to its source
that touch: intense, buried, enduring
altering my origin to an intimate perfection
allied our miseries in union, in madness
without the chance of returning
exiled from the realities of our arms
souvenir
Wine bottle
weeps wax ,
its warm taste
long decanted
On our sofa,
we flip through photographs
of Tuscan hills and venetian lagoons ,
skies a soft blue,
eyes alive, bottle full
No comments:
Post a Comment