Whereforto Ye Wanderers

Whereforto Ye Wanderers.



Tuesday, September 24, 2013

when i think of all that blood pumping in my creations

when the old drunk dog dies
and i drink
and stare out the window
at the twighlighting streets
all the masculine poetry in the world couldn't save me.
she said
theres a darkness in yr eyes when you get up late at night
and yet yr so wonderful
what she said.

i wake up in a sweat
i think somebody's breaking in
or im having the bad hallucinations again
everything could look so strange
in a blink.

and when midday's blanket
of fall briskly covers my lollygagging days off
i recall when every day was a day off
and think how everyone
is getting upset about work.

when i think of all that blood pumping in my creations happy or sad
i hurriedly write a poem
before walking out the door
to nothing,
   oh ---  what a liminal space.

     jesus the academia that shutters in my dreams,
all those wrecked apartments of my past
with smoke floating
lolliping thru the atmosphere
all i can think is just open a fucking window.

don't even get me started on the ole schizophrenia,
that's all i'll say to that.

i'm grateful
and i'll be on my way
down  that imaginal read red road
a no-coastal machine
with all those dopplegangers chasing my soul
its ok
its ok for now.

2 comments:

Jessica Alester said...

So heart touching lines...
I'm going to visit your blog daily now..
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