thank goodness for Dave, who plays the cello
I was saved
and given pillows for my ears
my tongue is numb
i am a gypsy, got stolen from
my scarf is lost
my esther leather fur-lined gloves are gone
in the infirmary
for a minor injury
my finger is broke
mangled, blue
my skeleton glove is gone
two sinister tunes
in less than twenty four hours
i spit a trail of colored dewdrops walking toward Queens road.
i knew to push the button in this time around
these haunted fields holding captive
white noise as we pass
mangled, blue
now I have two red flourishes stifled, painted over in white
for which I would be found
a pear cider guilty
covered by globalization at its best, there is
something so different about this side of the world
i think it is mainly the trees
and the disappearance of my reflection
in the window
at this moment.
1 comment:
Mangled, Blue
Thank goodness for Dave, who plays the cello;
I was saved,
and given pillows for my ears.
My tongue is numb;
I am a gypsy, got stolen from.
My scarf is lost,
My Esther leather fur-lined gloves are gone,
and I am in the infirmary for a minor injury.
My finger is not broke;
they called it an evulsion fracture.
It was mangled, blue.
My skeleton glove is gone,
exchanged for two sinister tunes
in less than twenty four hours.
I spit a trail of colored dewdrops walking toward Queens road.
I knew to push the button in this time around
while on the flying train,
these haunted fields holding captive
white noise as we pass.
Mangled, blue.
Now I have two red flourishes stifled, painted over in white,
for which I would be found
a pear cider guilty.
Covered by globalization at its best, there is
something so different about this side of the world.
I think it is mainly the trees,
and the disappearance of my reflection
in the window
at this moment.
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