+
Lakeside at dusk
between kisses and cigarettes
ducks on the water
look blurry, as if somebody
is playing with the focus knob
across a jelly-like surface
you watch them glide
brittle like synthetic ice
cut it, you shout, with a knife
car headlights in the darkness
I've never seen so much blood
tyres, slowly burn
+
you didn't die
when you were meant to
that happens (you know)
they all came, your friends
bearing gifts like three wise men:
a sketch block, Staedtler pencils
a carton of Winfield Blues
and Bukowski, of course,
at least five different editions
+
under the apple trees at Cherry Farm
you watch me trace
the falling stars shooting
across paper leaves
I sketch a succession
of hanging bodies,
suspended
from scaffolds,
hurriedly built
+
every corpse, it
leaves a poem
behind
+
scribbled lines
snatched kisses
another pound of flesh
it burns a (w)hole
in my heart
So good. Solid. A helluva poem. Revenants and the walking dead. Makes me shiver.
ReplyDeleteYes, wonderful.. again, again
ReplyDeleteKristen, so swooping, from treetop to earthen leaf, you've got wings honey girl. x
ReplyDeleteThank you for listening, dear brother & sister poets :)
ReplyDelete