Dream
I come alone to this unwholesome spot
shut off from the passersby
where the garbage sprawls over acres
and I recognize my collected consciousness
site of every care and feeling I disinherited
and the air smells like the entrails of a disembodied animal
now I know how my natural spring of joy went underground
choked up and went underground
buried by this debris
no wonder!
I realize my fear of discovery
cost me more dearly than any of those paltry sins
I hid alas!
mcmlxx__ (rev. mmviii)
2 comments:
Some good poetry for a change, it doesn't occur on the internet much. Although there is not much personal detail in your work (non-confessional) there is much variety in the word choice.
Laurie was encouraged by your comment, and says, "Thank you."
(I'm the scribe, Wanderin' Weeta.)
Post a Comment