cotton incarceration
warm passive silence
flaccid dysfunction
waiting for something
that will never happen,
the only viability
a son and daughter,
born before the
scent of burning gasoline

freeway interchange
radio an unordered state
of a music republic

traffuic chaos
with thrashing horns

when metal connects
notation raw
screacming crunch
thrown off latitude
subtle tones become blank
face connects with side window
glass can write and deface
what was naturally placed
as can a steering column

concrete scrape added
to symphony
eighteen wheels raised and flipped

soft cushion supports buttocks
with sores that ache
chair propelled by hands gnarled
by whatever connected with them
my hands
unseen yet rolled me forward
as i sketched in mind
floorplan outlay

yet the anger of memories lost
her face one of them,
she would push
and not complain,
butter toast
roast coffee granules
hear her yet so much is gone

that morning
making love
i think or was that last year
subtle flow interrupted
resistance is dead
we talk
lie in comfort
love that abstract definition
has shown it’s truth
worth more than what
i cannot see

  1. hypercryptical says:

    A sad aftermath of things lost…
    Anna :o]

  2. billgncs says:

    Wow – the loss is so strong in this piece

  3. Brian Miller says:

    dang. nice sounds and flow throughout…and a tight last stanza that gets a little prickly…

  4. rmp says:

    intense…not sure what possessed me, but I was drawn to read twice of the damage and the metal crunching and the eighteen wheels screeching and the flipping…

    very nicely written.

  5. kkkkaty1 says:

    My, this is extremely moving…how horrific if a true experience, lovely in the the remembrances of her.

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