Wednesday, October 17, 2012

a penniless man

drunk and exhausted,
a penniless man wanders alone,
under a white autumn moon,
dark streets grind and hum,
made with metal and rock,
for metal and rubber,
pulling and bending,
twisting and groaning,
looking out at the busy lights,
tracers of red and orange and blue,
no phone,
no TV,
no warm bath,
no kiss from a sweet heart,
she left when the money left,
a game of illusion,
monuments made of lies,
collapsed like sugar castles,
in the frigid rains,

form protects itself,
grace transcends itself,

church-goers hustle to their cars to escape the rain,

drunk and exhausted,
a penniless man dances alone under a white autumn moon.



Square Corner said...

I've been there. I really have. I don't want to go back. Same way I feel about a bad town or a restaurant with scowling eyed women and food that just about kills ya'.

SMA said...

Thanks for linking my blog (Everything Is Empty) -- do I happen to know you from elsewhere?