Thursday, January 28, 2016
I Was Eager
I eagerly drank dusty air, glancing to answer
The hurt of the person in the dusty night air;
He was playing billiards all his life and career,
Leading him to the market-place of thought.
His wife was a lover of the opposite kind,
And forgive him for trying to sound like a burden
To the brother and a sentence to the sister.
I drank his blood on the third night, like the windy
Perversion of the truth, a lonely fact, or a destructive
Effect, longer-lasting as a fact of the ultimate.
This air of the district had pain inside for misery's
End, that high tower they call mister, and the higher
Height it is named by the chief of the city looming.
I saw the blood on the street, as grace could disembark,
As grace could conquer the wretched rights.
At that point, there was a building of finite height,
Loving him in entirety, then the fall undergone for the blood
Of the city in ruins, a little town never abstained from
Graces and disgraces, a little lover was about to disembark.
Topic(s) of this poem: crime,murder