Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Hang onto Your Ghosts



Hang onto Your Ghosts

Pale dust trails a late sixties dream-Cadillac.

Small town.  Sweet & sour squirrel stew,
sundown tangled in silvery clouds,
scarecrows with cracked broomstick legs:
a flickering nightmare
in chapel-yellow candlelight.

Soft rain falls on a dusty road.

Ancient men hunch over cards.
Musty curtains.  Blue Linoleum floor.
One draws aces and eights.
Bottle of rye.
Don't worry.  It's them
short drives home
what kill people.

Summer.  Big night sky.
Bones of thought.
Moonlight in a ranchers's
crystal stem glass.
Oak-hard moodiness.
Painting of a ketchup-red horse.
French linen... ransacked heart.

Dream-rain, gust of wind
across a dozing hound
wedged between shadows.
A shuttered face twitches.
Vanilla-scented dream:
a quick-talking woman,
unkempt long ebony hair,
black currant lipstick.
 


 



 

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