I Don't Even Know The NameThe pharmacy eats sidewalk-laden asphalt; gorging on tar-it's a graffiti-envelopedI Don't Even Know The Name
dilapidate.
I'm far enough and close enough to pinch it,
cloud it with smoke curls of Bali Hai.
I used to ponder breaking in when I was kid, that sad structure down the block, its inside elusive by boarded windows and black haze. I collected doodlebugs instead.
It's a long gone, forlorn-abandoned vertical train wreck,
succumbing to potholes
and dust like old bones.
I'm ten years older or so now.
The building doesn't impede my street f
In the Car at ThreeIt's one of those nights the cars look like lights as we cruise by with late night talk lo-fi.In the Car at Three
We like engines they make us feel alive--we live
and it's time to give friends second chances.
We'll be separating soon.
Love looks like the moon its edges vaporized on its side under a halo of clouds.
It was easy to love friends above rough glances. When we had hard times, we fuzzed lines to love again.
The last years of our lives right now we don't know how differen
Not ListeningThe words you say I ignore with the thick curlNot Listening
of Turkish smoke
from my lips, rising in zigzag.
I lean my head against my house, my eyes pealed on night summer sky that the flickering streetlights have dimmed.
The clouds move rapidly, maybe it will rain.
Last Night at the LeveeMidnight bells the barge on river sings raucous, sings serene. We remember here, ripples in water, stray dogs and litter.Last Night at the Levee
Mound of dirt for
a eulogy we talk of a girl who passed away, and the guy who went to jail after that.
More cigarettes to burn a thought, one by one, between ashen fingers
and limbs. Toes dug into dirt, into earth.
We talk in loose phrases, about finding bags of coke and mollies
with three dollars, she took the three dollars and threw the drugs out the car wi
too tired to be talking
Tired
--
Gallery:
[link]
Thank you for favoriting "Details." I am honored. It is one of the poems that certainly means a lot to me on a personal level. Hope you stop by more. Thanks again!
~Krista.
--
"To the complaint, 'There are no people in these photographs,' I respond, 'There are always two people: the photographer and the viewer.'" -Ansel Adams
--
I(now) = I(now - Δt) + Δt ∙ I(now - Δt) for Δt → 0
--
we're more than artists, we're works of art.
~artistic-advancement
--
should i?
same time...
don't keep me!
--
In all the darknesses I've chosen to know, none can impare the lights I see dancing in your eyes.
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