CK (January 27,1972 / Quincy, Massachusetts)

Trashing Tumult

Can you linger here for just a song?
Can you sway with me through the
Evening shutter of full moon-glow?

One day I walked to the end of time
through a darkened field
And called your name
And the only one that heard me
Was the shimmering yellow leaf
Borne of a silvery white ghost-birch
Bending obscenely under the
Wet gales of spring.

Rain fell on my downcast eye and
Stirred my rib-cage into gleam
And sheen.
My clothes smelled of damp, burning leaves.
Musky and old-fashioned, I limped along.

I whistled to my broken wing
And smoothed my seeded
Shoulder back
And just below the starlight
Peeping through:
The bruised & snarly cloud cover.

I walked home alone and crushed with no
Acceptable excuse for letting
The clock wind down.
But if you asked me today
I would have to say
That it was a necessary function
Of evolving human flesh
To trash titans and flash tin-pan signals
to the multitudes whilst the
Silver sky howled and raged at me
And my dirty clothes.

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Comments (1)

The poet's soul gleams in the moonlight.