poem 93 of a poem a day for 2012

sitting at the race for
empty beauty  

some bar and grill
with Bukowski's
"Love is a Dog from Hell"
on my dime
flipping pages
flaming lips kiss
the jukebox
all the way
home inside
my heart again

all the heroes
come riding in on
all these wild horses
ridden between tall pines
and all the sunshine
spilling over meadows
clear across an acre or two
the horses bow their heads
along the fabric of
shadow growing trees
knowing to dance pleased
in an angular pursuit of
the chariot we chase with
dashboard trophy bobble-heads
laced to radio
driving our day
as we near
ourselves alone
paper-dolled
to the news

even the great apollo slept
at the wheel      
though only once
long enough
for us to steal fire
from this arc driven light
though only once
long enough
for us to burn
our divine reach
in the name
of any of us
who might so
evolve to rise
though only once
long enough
of course
to pin it
on Prometheus
and we have
been chained
to chianti and
fava beans
ever since
in our minds

outside
on the periphery
of our lives
all our personal
ghosts taunt
all our ignorance
as inside our spirits
true reason clings to
life's underbelly and
laughs and pauses
as it scratches its back
rolling over
every once
in awhile
for another pet
or two of
true blue

and I can
hear myself
pretty well now
and again
and I can
see myself
better when
I close my eyes
and let go to smell
in the dark
like my dog does
so easily
submitting
to Love

EJR (c)