it is not an obligation
to write of the man asleep on the corner of Preston Street
who was not asleep but was given away in his approach
only by the clinking bottles in his pocket
and then three, triangulating me
a worse neighborhood than Brooklyn
by far, by far
and somehow in the dream I could see
what i had almost done
hit the man with the piano key scarf
with a cup to the temple
and the blood that poured out poured back in
and his eyes were closed and he was gone
and his eyes were open in dumbed alarm
and i was grateful to have another chance
i took the purple shoe he offered in stun
and left all the men behind
to wander the world with no blood on my hands
4 comments:
Nice post. Combines your poetry and your dreams.
Position Available: Blog Prompter (used to be 'muse' but has been modified to be politically correct).
Any interest in giving me a subject or idea or word or thing or whatnot to try to write to (along the lines of my earlier prompts)? Maybe not every day. Some times? What do you say, Loyal Reader?
No obligation. One week trial period?
No remuneration, alas, but you could put it on your resumé in case the state no longer has any money to manage or equalize....
just thinking ahead.
Today's Prompt: If Penguins Flew
Post a Comment