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Something Isn't The Matter

A little bit of loneliness
fills in the blank spots
and the sails open
like shields;
tear you across and into

Your neck clutches
your head;
your eyes pulled thin
over the waves

Years go by

You go by
You recognize you,
side by side

Like two drunkards
or pop stars
you walk down the lane,
ransacking every minute
for as long as your bodies click

I'm at the tail end
of times that are a'changing
and nobody discusses
what's on the walls,
though crammed with important works

Death is in the works,
we're aware

If it was only as normal
and practical
as the pandemic funeral pyres
in Delhi,
so consoling,
putting death into perspective,
stripping it
of its obsessive self indulgance;
just a bum down the line;
death is just a bum down the line,
a free ride of gossip
down everybody's line,
the tail of a fish flashing
and disappearing in the stream

I carve my past onto a clay totem,
but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth

Something isn't the matter

That can bother anyone

Fri vers (Fri form) av Ingvar Loco Nordin VIP
Läst 25 gånger
Publicerad 2021-05-04 21:23

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