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Open Poetry #26
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Drexler_McStyles
Member
since 2002-11-18
Posts 195
Venice, Ca

0 posted 2003-05-26 02:28 AM




the fate of my stomach
lies on the breast of the scorpions claw
the azulite sky
whispers through the linen stitching
carried on the waves
along the path of the agave
down the spiral
towards the worm
who sits at the bottom
of a hand blown
glass decanter
tools to pull the thorns from my side
are never par to the chore
they usually leave me
draped like a slab of meat
somewhere across
the red asphalt in my driveway

once when I was in Havana
searching for an elusive baseball cap
(not the Alacranes, but the Industriales)
I shared some beer with an old timer  
under the veil of a banana tree
in the public square where all the hustlers
and unemployed chess players waited
it seemed I was the only one
who knew what he was waiting for
everyone else was resigned
to the slow decline
we were all sharply dressed gentlemen
in our pan-american suits
with our freshly shined hooves
the heat from the sun
had killed mules for less
so we spoke softly
of baseball and full figured women
and forgot to complain
about any of it

as I sit here now
in this dead space
drinking bad tequila
crowned with my blue cap
I wish I were still with them
sitting in the park
sipping on that beer

when it came down to it
I never had a doubt
about which brand of the slow decline
I preferred


© Copyright 2003 Steven Doherty - All Rights Reserved
passing shadows
Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577
displaced
1 posted 2003-05-26 02:33 AM


what a memory
CaseyLeigh
Junior Member
since 2003-05-15
Posts 48

2 posted 2003-05-26 10:18 AM


a strong desire to "get the hell out" is calling you.

stay away from the dogs...

Magnus
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Laureate
since 2001-10-10
Posts 14135
South Carolina, USA
3 posted 2003-05-26 10:28 AM


This is awesome...makes me think of Bogey
standing beneath a streetlamp....talking
about some long lost time...

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