In congress with shadows

In congress with shadows

Stepping down,
hesitant,
one at a time.
Stepping down,
down the bare wooden stairs
into the cellar's shadows
seeking, I tell myself,
what I had once left there.
clues to all I've done
clues scattered among
the shelves and plastic boxes,
the cardboard, the pasteboard packets
beneath the dust and dusty things
behind the spiders' gossamer
invitations, promises
doing business by another name
there amid sunlit lures
fronting the tiny windows.
there in the dull, silvery light
of a late winter’s afternoon
spilling across the cold cement floor
trailing faded pales and gray across the busy-ness
little here looks like mine.
or too much looks like mine
like that dried mouse
hunger slacked by spring steel
feeling all the traps I've sprung
and I, still flee the cold
searching out the free meal
none the wiser, no different
blue poisonous crystals
in the closed cupboards
blue aqarium rocks, candy bright
to thin the blood
I did not put them there
though I've done worse
in letting the it stay
in not having cleared the worse away.
the furnace click on, or is it the water heater?
mechanical noises, the gurgle of water through pipes
no tiny feet scury away, I listen for that
my eyes on the shadows
and half forgotten horrors, dreamed.
Above me, an old dog crosses the floor
we are all old, this house, dog and I.
The floor shifts under his weight,
terrifying the mice and spiders.
as I creep quickly up the stairs,
more quickly, than I came down
****

Life as passion

Trees in the wind
Dark against the dawn sky
Like remembered demons
Imaged as a child

Squirrel on a wire
Clinging at a run
into the wind, the rain
going shopping

The day grows later
Leaves becoming green
Some yet brown from the dark
long limbs bending
roots trying to hold on,
just like me
*****

Whores and George

Politics and prostitutes
Tony to George
And it's not like it never happened before
all the flippin' limp and sore
and more bloody sorrow
The bastards lied to us
Trickee Dickie and Don
they lied to us. George
Course they did, Tony darlin’
snuggling to her bosom
she wipes our streamin’ eyes
there now, how pretty,
how pretty sounds our lies
said they'd throw flowers
give us their oil
wasn't just the money
you gave her all the money
and now it hurts,
when you whiz
and drips, after
so stop your snifflin' tears
all your silly, silly fears
don't matter now,
anyhow, truth
was never part of it,
truth being a bit of a bore.
Wouldn't it you, Georgie 'at said
What this party needed
was a bit of a whore

Comments

[not_two]

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Hope to see you soon..