Coroner's report:
The dead man was found wrapped
very tightly in the clothes of his
sister who can not be found.
She telephoned once to ask
for help and is now somewhere
between life and death.
His head had been chewed
on and there was a slight
shivering in his back pocket.
There were repeated
skulls on the glossy weeping
tree, and
earlier sleeves in his file show
a face imprisoned in
coltish dandelions.
Later we see lipstick stains
over the gates of the streets, and his forced affirmation of a world soaring through the motel stars that he couldn't see over his own deathly hair.
Above
the moon's a scar
in the dirt etched over the sky.
Lighthouse
life & blood smeared
on the sky from the sidewalk in the
foreign,
dark
street
closing.
Comments
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okay. thanks so much and sorry I haven't replied...i just got internet hooked up after a move.
I am going to go ahead and change the title because i definitely respect your opinion - there are so few people on this website who will really look at a poem as you looked at mine. thanks again. -
An interesting abstract poem that deftly manages not to support it's title. It isn't a poem of how to do anything. The words are interesting, the title, in my opinion, is despicable. Out of the gazillion words floating around out there in the lexographical universe, certainly you could string together two or three others to describe this poem... I sincerely hope you consider doing so. Three clappies for the poem's words while trying to ignore the title.
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I don't get it. = /
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