Vesuvius
on the side of the road
I
am leaving
for
alone
to
atone
to
let everyone
find
my bones
in
a hundred year grind
bleached
into a ghost of my breath
in
a sudden lung fill
of
hot ash and mental breakdowns
raining
the words
waiting
for the Sun
through
the clouds
a
life of shrouded blades
of
supple tippled fingered leaves
these
trees are the courtesans
of
my orbits in rings that please
the
bell jar herds of rabbit holes
and
their sharp teeming lemming desire
I
want I want I want
I
am stone wheeling
each
tiny infinity
as
a large part of somebody else’s
small
cup of hopefully ever-after
or
maybe possibly could be
just
the dust that gathers
and
clings to the banners
hung
in the rafters
that
remark on what my passages
in
hand sewn letters did for
who
won what where when
and
why of course I am leaving
this
place of competition
for
something more subtle
than
jousting for hearts
with
skin under my nails
I
am on the side of the road
bleeding
new songs in old rhythms
sticking
my tongue out
for
a ride home somewhere
where
life isn’t just a poem
waiting
out the coal gray blues
EJR
©
Again, you close with six spectacular lines. Well done poet.
ReplyDelete