Circus
Down-town but not out
Hear the roar of the street cleaners
It’s nearly six a.m.
The sun’s come up
There’s a hazy glow
Cracking through the
In-betweens
Of the glass on stone buldings
Feels like a thousand hours
Have rushed by
But the old clock in the midtown parish
Stopped one day around nine
We no longer set our daily schedule by the clock
We follow the sunrises and the setting suns
Even the moon keeps our tick-tocks
Intact – when it’s dark
Somehow we found our way back to nature
No one remembers how to fix the cogs and the shiny springs
We know about liquor, be it booze or bliss
We know about drugs, snorted or smoked
It’s all sex, sex, sex – but no one knows why
Touch any part but the heart of the one
You go home with
Dare not attach yourself
To any-body
I found a solution to this dizzy drain
As a steady pounding reverberates through me
By way of the blood’s fury
“Kiss Me Red”
As it travels about my streaming estuaries
Reminding me that the Natives are restless
My brain can’t be made
To
Conform
Not to time or clocks without a heavy infusion
Of extra-strength asprin chewed to
White bitters
Swallowed in a paste
It’s the goo that renews life
Come morning time
Waking up, I remember yesterday
But never think about tomorrow
Rustle up some left over sin
Before I powder my nose
The sun’s come up
Or the clock’s right again
It’s time to pound, pound, pound the pavement
Prowl around the steaming streets
To shake hands with this or that devil
Aren’t we all just trying to get by? While
Looking
for
Distractions.
©Susan Morgan Bosler 2011
All rights reserved. Please do not repost or reprint any part without the expressed written approval of the author.
You can hear this post at my facebook page – photo/videos section. http://www.facebook.com/susanbosler
Like this:
Like Loading...
Read Full Post »