isolation makes me jump
into the shredding propeller of her tongue
it was Hi 8 and stereo record player
and a sense we belonged,
wiping nose on my hand
then on those jeans strained and faded,
we could make it work maybe,
her nightgown had buttons
linear nipples of distraction,
i would run
if it where not the seventeenth floor
and no closer to heaven,
her voice slowed quicker
than the snow outside,
are we done
gun still pressed in my back waistband
you look done
i felt battered beyond the cut over eye
and bloodied nose,
the projects would have heroes
i was not one of them,
failing to hold up the store
girl cashier
younger
faded blonde dye and dark roots,
i spoke and connected,
pulled a flower from the bunches
sold cheaply at the desk
and gave it to her,
a startling explosion
as manager hit me with a piece of wood,
i ran
never said goodbye
but i know who
i wanted now
Tag Archives: bài thơ
bones lost to violence
blunt nailed waitress peered
out of window,
watching a white Ford side step
move through a channel
of fading snow,
engine abrupt in the silence
crawling on wet tires
behind the wheel
eyes filled with cluster of stars
that waited for him,
knew he would use rifle and pistols
lain on the passenger seat,
an older man ducked in through
a door from the sidewalk
anticipation filled centuries bones,
oak casket shadows lengthened
over street,
as to traffic signals and crossroads
paused muffler rumbling,
a man stepped out a short distance
ahead and raised a rifle
sounding with a quick report,
windshield shattered
ducking across seats,
other men appeared
bullets clattered and punctured metal
crawled out the door
and as a shield returned fire,
blunt nailed waitress
placed hand on stomach
with a soft flutter,
from the roof of the bank
rifle leveled
became a victim tumbling to asphalt
with rifle expended
took up the guns his grandfather wore,
tightening belt
histories confidence made him stand,
before drawing
bullet clipped his shoulder
wincing not falling
fanned the gun,
two others fell,
a voice shrieked stop
blunt nailed waitress
stood between them,
gunsmoke scented cold air,
it had to be resolved
but not this way,
for the sake of a child
conversation was born
dVersePoets
velvetmedia 