time is stealing me
away don't ask where
don't come looking
the Former People may be up for abduction
whispering softly perhaps I'll go willingly fall in love
again turn into Patti Hearst they've got under my
skin sleeping out on Lawless Road their clothes habits phrases strange
ways etched deeper inside of me tattooed on my
heart
wheel-less cars balance on wooden crates under the black hole
sun a needle loaded with methadone I wish I'd never kissed
her taps the vein pulls the
pin
boss boy hands me an open book of aerial
poetry when you turn your back on me it flies
away nobody told me there'd be days like
these the nights grow
longer a stranger in a blue uniform tries to serve
papers your initial on every page tides turn too
slowly I caress the flying poems scattered, shattered through
the volume as if the veins, pins, poems mattered
I ran away don't ask where
don't come looking bodies float
up from the bottom of the
estuary floor it's always our bodies, guilty
that betray us in the end don't ask
where don't come
looking
ReplyDeleteWhat a finale!
Cheers etc.
Applause.
Thanks Rob:) now back to the pages that cut - love that line - and what you did in that poem "The Open Book" - want to textually raid with it, play with it ....:)
ReplyDeleteMy reading of this was that the poets on this site could be those of Lawless Road. Maybe I am projecting too much of my own experience. When I read this is makes me think of my experience of reading poems on this site!
ReplyDeleteClaine, I love your reading of the Lawless Road poems - and the way in which Rob (and others) have also 'run with them' - and I really like the way that after reading this poem you thought of your experience of reading poems on this site. I think all of us poets are a bit lawless, anarchistic & eccentric (for want of a better term!) at heart!
DeleteI just love them, that vein is a rainbow.
ReplyDelete