Untitled #4

[Another free verse poem, this one with more nature-inspired imagery.]

 

I’ve been walking through black spots and wind

Sun-coloured trees, a fear of the beach

The water beyond it could drag me down at any moment

I hold onto the floor for dear life

We noticed the back of our friend

Standing in the black spots

Dragged by the wind

Just thinking

 

Once too late, but gone, gone, fine

Enabled by myself

Feeling sick and hunted by freaks on fire

Their claws singe my back,

And I am gone, gone, fine

 

Archiving lists of gates and looms

In a library filled with sand

The woman on the counter stared at me with lucid dreams

She called me out on every indiscretion

Well-earned

Worried only by the leaping of beetles

Vines, barrels full of beer, well-hopped and bitter

 

Hand-held beliefs and bored concrete stalls

That we walk past, old men peddling bags of rocks

That contain precious gems unseen

And across mountains, the lines of people

From once to where

From care to care

Damned, deserted, upset

Heralded

Welcomed

Abused

 

Fine wines lost to the sea, drunk on a lilo, no horizon left

And swimming back to the dense streets of the city

Where people scream, holler, revel

And the feeling is mutual

When you say you don’t belong

 

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