April 29, 2012

poem 143 of a poem a day for 2012 (NaPoWriMo31)

building to disappear in the rain on the boardwalk 

watch the rise
here ye here ye
it is we
who demand
more vision to stay dry
as waves lash fingers
into all the rust of our mechanical follies
the rickety rockets and tea-cup twirls
the curl lugs of chains and seedy things
of whipped sugary things
of rings fried in grease
with the ease of elbows dug in repose
who knows that stars come to Earth to die
while we stare past the hooded canopy of strung lights
and their sodium sorrow borrowed from the Sea

are we willing to burn
a slow piece of forever
just to peel what we paint
onto memory to keep
from fading into clapboard storefronts
and the shoebox of skee-ball tickets saved
as if we are collecting box tops
for a red rider out of here
just to be far enough away
so we might be able to sleep in the rain tonight
drink the tides, and let go back into the dark
with the fertility of lightning
and an instance of pure surrender


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