reflections of a westward trip

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Open Poetry #10

reflections of a westward trip

ma miller
Senior Member

since 2000-07-11

Posts 806

0 posted 2000-11-04 09:58 PM

reflections of a westward trip

westward
     | where mountains are king
     | and my heart's pound of flesh was left
     | waiting for a local trolley that never came
     | to take me away from a moment of weakness
is where the angels play jazz to the wee hours
     | of a morning that couldn't take the edge off
     | the night before's cherry sloe-gin drinks
     | that kept coming without my command or money
and the stench of affluence is so overbearing
     | i remember dry-heaving from the thought
     | of never being as rich as some two-toned punk
     | as he sharpened his knife on my best leather
once even the poor know you're from outta' town
     | they look down on you like you owe them
     | the time of day that they're ready to steal
     | right off your hard-earned wrist anyway
your strangeness increases exponentially

M.A. Miller
10.20.00

My calling before me, let quill be my offering;
For to be called poet, no greater gift to receive.

M.A.

Kethry
Member Rara Avis

since 2000-07-29

Posts 9082
Victoria Australia

1 posted 2000-11-05 04:46 AM

MA Miller,
what interesting reflections these are.
Be well
Kethry

Growth demands a temporary surrender of security.
Gail Sheehy

Rainydays
Member

since 2000-10-21

Posts 324

2 posted 2000-11-05 09:55 AM

M.A. An interesting double layered write. Edgy, striking. Thank you ~

Rainydays

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