Illusion

I once lived among them
Blinking bleary at the gaping open door as the
Light rushed in and reminded us it was
Day

What nerve they had to remind us
Outside children played and
Hope found happy homes

Here there was
Half melted ice swirling scotch whiskey
You had to drink it before it got too
Watered down

That was the only way

Cigarette burning next to the pint of frothy ale
Forgotten half-conversation
Wondering

My neighbor lolled his head to look
Having heard a phantom name
From a forgotten past in which he
Lived

Who?
He muttered to no one at least I
Hoped it was no one as I didn’t want to
Answer

Another please
I told the bar-maid
Always ready with a smile
Concealing contempt (I suspected)

By the third one it went down easier
And I hardly noticed the sun

I remember your tiny mouth of striking, rose red
Scarlet, pursed to mask the ever-present semblance of a grin

Green gothic eyes intensely gazed, intent upon your
Target, black hair painted a frame about your face

Your dagger sharp tongue, wielded with skill and precision
Devious and deadly it protected

You, yet still I saw your soft center, hidden deep and kept
Carefully protected, I could feel you long for comfort

That night you held my hand and slept upon my lap
I sat and listened to you breathe

The morning sun creeps across the floor
Highlighting imperfections in the old wood
Warm through the window it crawls along the marks
Made by furniture moved from here to there so long ago

With closed eyes I feel the bass thumping weakly
The rattle of tattered speakers reminds me
They too once had better days

At times like these it doesn’t much matter what they say
Posturing machismo or affected affections

All I hear is the steady pounding

Once I lived by mixed tapes
Ordering songs for expressive effect
Organizing chaos penned by other men

Motion seized by fear and time
The beat continues without permission or consideration

Counter-fitting emotion

Once I heard this song through a prism of satisfaction
Colored rose and lavender contrasting verdant vibration

Now is the dark that comes before dawn
Though I feel it in my soul pounding and pounding and pounding
Confounding anticipation

It rattles on

The rolling of the tires sings softly
Punctuated by tar marks on the road

movement to momentum

Quiet carrion meandering slowly
Informed by sunlight and small flowers with white buds

action to existence

Sinking deeper into my soul
A soft whisper calls me

hope