Just a thought
to pound it in real good,
the last nail in a coffin
that has been hand carved..
fleeting glimpses out the window
of white picket fences
wishes from poster card america
i was hand fed on....
n then theres this
middle ground'
a seeming viper pit of
rebellious misfits i
have found....
we are shiny like silver n found
n gutters....
n i am breathing you in friends..
the smell of your body salts
takes me back to the ocean
i remember playing in the tempest waters as a child...
perhaps it is there the seed came in
planted itself in my womb..
n grew this great wildness......
n i dream unafraid
n wake up shivering...
the taste of remeberance on my tounge.....
there is nothing now to save me from the bones...
the bottle is dry
n these pills leave me empty
n so i float
there are no heights n
no falls
suspended animation....
n bittersweet memorys that keep me
from fully tasting
the life n death'
of a new sun rising.................
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem