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South Chicago
| Open Poetry #3 |
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South Chicago |
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Soleil Member
since 1999-06-12
Posts 113 |
"Attach your drmons to my chariot" He says "The magic lantern show has begun." And I look to see strange, shapeless shadows Careening on the wall. It is then that I find twined inconsolability In solemn death and reckless grave. For escape is just a violent outburst That is never certain. The wolves who circled each other Outside the tent Now circle me. And the snake oil salesman Finding rhythm in his own words Wraps a deathwatch of coarse wool Around my shivering shoulders. I am of irregular stone, now powder. But then I recognize the heat smell Of rusted radiators And hear an old woman cry shrilly. I listen for the sound of God In this fife story tenement. Suddenly shots ring out. And I briefly wonder Where it is that I will make My unexpected appearance, And hope I'll waken to waitless days. |
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