Carl A.I.

Rookie (08/11/1980 / Los Angeles, California)

Walking Through The Cemetary On Heroin.... - Poem by Carl A.I.

the leaves follow me.
Dead leaves,
riding on the back
of the northwest winds.
They're blown across the pavement
and they chatter like bones,
those leaves.
I notice the names;
I am surrounded by names.
Victors and Matthewson, and John.
John Graves' grave.
The shade of a willow tree,
who's branches flow like a head of hair,
keeps the summer heat
off the lucky ones.
The children across the street
shriek and laugh
like they are truly alive,
and they are.
I wonder if John Graves ever shot up.
Underneath the boquet of flowers
lie the
fallen petals; they tried so hard
to hold on, but they couldn't, and
they didn't.
I think there is a petal for every person;
but we need more flowers in here,
and I mean quickly.
Roses, Tulips, Daisys, Etc.
Soon they will come, and soon they will fall
and soon more will come.
And more will come, and more will come,
will come.

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Read poems about / on: summer, children, tree, hair, flower, rose, wind, child

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, May 4, 2004

Poem Edited: Wednesday, March 24, 2010

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