Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Urban Pastoral’

It occurred to me recently
That dreams are for those who can pay the most
Over a bowl of sugared cardboard
And fungal toast
In my sublet apartment
With more rats than ghosts
In the morning the sun hits the trash
And the local man, who smells likes booze
And lives under the over pass
Emerges, and we wait to watch him see his shadow
Because, if he does, then alas
There will be 6 more weeks of winter

Winter is a fresh coat of paint
Except for those who can’t afford clothes
Who pray that perhaps a saint
Or some other wraith with gold
Can revive some distant and faint
Recollections of a life put on hold.
It occurred to me recently
That food doesn’t fill the hungry
It struck me in a dream
While I excavated a dungy
Moss filled basement
Where some prophet had gone to die.

 

Read Full Post »