poem 244 of a poem a day for 2012

velvet Elvis and your boom boom light show

I am a broken down steed

I am bleeding in the cut quiet

aural wake of my material desire

I am dissolving my will

out along the avenues of America

with its yellow chrome sodium sadness

street-lighting higher purpose

with a lower regard for accountability

I am a poet who corners attention with fire

lobbing paint onto the shells

of brick buildings in slow erode

I am all hand grenades

and rock star charades

I am a parade of the fool

and I steal sage to brush your Moon with

I am that charcoal burning incense

in the corner of the room when

I ask if you would like something

more from me and you just smile

in a dark fertile bloom and shimmy a bit

in a language of blinks and slight nods

in something that my DNA

knows to give in to

knows to hold onto

knows that this is a feast of reparations

knows that this is what I need

to see, hear, touch, taste and smell

what completes elation

in the soft ripes of

the near dark

EJR ©