Wild Horses
Agamemnon--
You look quite lifelike now
saffron in the odor of your disinterment.
Were you alone, or did your fellows
wonder at your demise?
Metal music made,
broken axle crost the dotted line,
rumors of an incident
circulating, fulminating,
impromptu
toxic waste dump on the busy I:
red light district/spaghetti snarl
After the rains came strange new
growths, born of the water's burden:
Paisley river horses foaming at the banks
called the hustlers home.
So many more of them have died--
I color the windows
in green leaves and rosethorns/chilled apricot brandy/
sunset over the ruined palace/
nightlife in another time zone/
goodbye.
END
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment