Through winter underpass
Pyjama thin she walks
From her estate to his
He’s waiting
Sullen eyes
And cold
Pyjama thin she walks
Shuddering at the sound
Of her flip flops
As they flap
Her bony heels
Shuddering at the sound
She cannot quell
Which make the unheard
Heard
She cannot quell
The choking fear
Of others
Now
The choking fear
As flip flops
Flap
As flip flops
Flap
Flap
Finding lust before love
Settling for something unreal
Let the tears drop from the dove
My heart feeling less than it should
Doing what I thought would be right
Turns out more wrong than it could be
Darkness spawned from the light
I conceal, can't get love for just me
I smile when all I need to do is cry
Time to be honest and not lie
To myself or anyone else
Lusting and fornicating
The only thing dying is me
They live to kill off another
To kill off with a smother
Of her own issues...
Great, green torpedo screaming
through the soft suburban night.
Rocket fin American dreaming,
chrome grill grinning, gleaming,
dual headlights shining halo bright.
Great, green torpedo screaming,
“Make way for denim angels,” seeming
to manifest in steel and light.
Rocket fin American dreaming
their way to rootbeer float redeeming
souls from adolescent plight.
Great, green torpedo screaming
louder than the radio streaming
tuck-and-roll revival, out of sight.
Rocket fin American dreaming,
Phototaxis
by Mary Czerwinski (Televixen1701)
Brake lights on shiny black asphalt
Sad is the night that walks past me
Sadder is the day that ignores me
Sad is the evening that pities me unendingly
Saddest is the morning that makes me feel queasy
Giving me the reasons to pass on quietly
Silently stealing hopes from my mental armory
Patiently waiting for the end of weariness
Lurking around me is the Angel stealthily
Another harvest it desires, not dearly
But anything that makes surplus its kitty
Observant it sits across my eye line
Giving me solace, as it stares glowingly
The stale flecks of pre-dawn hope
Rinced acid clean by morning glare
Like remnant cornflakes
Perhaps love does really exist, but the beings we are surrounded by don't know how
Perhaps there is no such thing as soulmates, but if you're blessed with loving someone who respects you back, you should stick with 'em
Perhaps the tides come in and then receed to show us what, if anything, will be left behind after some turbulence
Perhaps we shouldn't compare struggles, feet can manage socks and hands can manage mittens
Perhaps love does really exist, but the beings we are surrounded by don't know how
Perhaps there is no such thing as soulmates, but if you're blessed with loving someone who respects you back, you should stick with 'em
Perhaps the tides come in and then receed to show us what, if anything, will be left behind after some turbulence
Perhaps we shouldn't compare struggles, feet can manage socks and hands can manage mittens
Marlboro men
cough a lot
have mean squinty little eyes
and haunted expressions
that come from
throat cancer
three day stubble
emphysema
and the knowledge
of how damned
hard it is
to look
suave and sophisticated
with an
oxygen tank
mounted
on your
horse.
