Forget the hour
I couldn't get out of
the carriage on M Train jammed
the cowboy was talking
about writing
about nothing
rain falls
shit happens
you toss and turn and
turn and toss walk
the streets for money
talk shit to White Kings on speed
and Red Queens coming down
a bad batch on the Golden Mile
pass me a handful of codeine
pour me a glass of wine
forget the hour
we all got stuck in, suspended
between poetry and madness
steel-toes kicking at the front-door
look up there's a sun out there
won't you come wash away the tears
did you say the sky looks dead
won't you come
do a runner
dob him in
are you
safe
look up there's a sun out there
won't you come
Dear Kristen, I have enjoyed watching this poem grow. It's very fine. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Rob :) it has been a poem fraught with procrastination - a long overdue hour indeed!
Deletethat sun that sun. xxx
ReplyDelete