i.
this is an extra blanket
and two chairs kinda hotel
a window; concrete wall
where prostitutes strut their wares
and the whore-less peruse with hope
and a cross between their eyes...
a nice view for blindsided
scentless souls that feed off more
than misery - a room
holding a crusted sense of taking
its musty loom, embedded lust,
mixed between sheets of smoking gun. swanking
a no understand maid service - iced rocks on
stained crawling veneer; but cheap vodka
makes everything rapidly worthy
of consideration - even the sound
of crazed concubines becomes symphonic
to a malignant minded
has been - 15 minutes worth
ii.
some people scrapbook their lives
i scrape by...born with left tumbs and a
chainsaw i was set to right my wrongs
bloodshed colored my visionary prospects...
but the right brain got the best of me
i write instead -
a cut here, a slash there
nothing a band aid will not cover
an anxious rewrite will not calm down --
i seem to walk straighter that way
the way of vacillacting
incision
bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2010
Sometimes, escapism is worth its fair share..enjoyed reading this poem, love a poem that tells a story...Great write
ReplyDeleteFabulous write! Writing is the great escape, a saving grace...oh, the choices one makes!
ReplyDeleteQué agradable tener un nuevo vecino.
ReplyDelete"the way of vacillating incision". Just writing that one line makes you a stellar poet! Wow, bkm....your writing is very deep. Well done.
ReplyDeleteI read your words over and over. And when I reach the end, I have died and lived again.
ReplyDeleteWonderfully seedy - love the line "a nice view for blindsided scentless souls that feed off more
ReplyDeletethan misery"