Treasure Island

Madrason writer

(24-07-1967 / waalwijk netherlands)

Nothing more than a rewind


The pavement
tambourines
the tiptoeing
netted legs
begging to be noticed
the yellow leafs
follow in dismay
her airy array
the red garbage bags
leaning against walls
re-vibe
her calls
begging
to exchange
a moments
destiny
it hammers the
spikes
into your soul
or spine
evokes a quiver
Indian summer
red shoes
and pink silk skin
or disillusion
a contract builder
paving ways
gazes and stops the
pneumatic bouncing
on the street
so she again
gains
sight
and sighs
and mighty
my's
and holy
canoly
and be-elzebub
why's
just around
the corner
she cornered
all confusion
's left behind
with nothing,
no reward,
nothing
more than
a rewind.

Madrason 23102013

Submitted: Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Edited: Thursday, October 24, 2013

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