Passing Perpetual Cemeteries En Route To The Eventual Wedding
Like a salt seasoned
chain smoking
speakeasy sleuth:
A mind's eye Sam Spade -
too tired to care, sporting a shadowy
jungle growth of shipwrecked
castaway facial hair,
tongue lapped by the sailor's briny thirst,
I prematurely snuff out my cigarette,
pick up my trusty sidekick pen,
pocket traveling notebook and survey the room.
Suspicious sundry of circumstance and motive
outlining the alcohol enthralled milieu
As I write, a pale citrine curious
beam of clean lemon light
illuminates the paper thin margins;
empty space uniting each individual word;
second hand smoke upwreathes in
casual succession rising and dissipating,
rising and dissipating
like dusty noire barroom clockwork.
Wounded, wandering
day by day;
stranded, staggering
place to place,
suffering great distances;
the observer's remote outpost;
the stomach's timedelayed homesickness
My scattered attention span
buzzing in and out;
a myriad of mind numbing conversations,
like a hive sick pollen drunk bee
without flower to land,
stuck in the sinuous sticky-sweet
honeycomb of day to day deja vu.
Perdition's long cherished tradition
Tip-tip-tipplin' time away
Drinking with a purpose
Drinking to forget
Drinking to converse
Drinking with Vesuvian vengeance
in a Sudden hiccup rumbling
feeling the night go from bad to worse
still nursing the effects of last night's
life long hang over
Every night passing perpetual cemeteries en route to the eventual wedding
[...] Read more
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
