Wednesday, April 22, 2015

6636. COMMINGLED WITH FROSTBITE

COMMINGLED 
WITH FROSTBITE
Your heart is broken open like a tortured gun
and mouth is there just gaping : I have your
youth to deliver, but there's no one home
to receive. That  -  along with my silly delivery
truck outside, and the freezing cold within  -  
makes me wary of standing here waiting. I want
to stammer and leave. Just sign this please.
-
Only yesterday, in far better weather, I stood
at 14th street watching  -  some Asian guy was
playing his one-stringed instrument again. I'd
not seen him all Winter, and now I guessed
he was back  -  all the same, nothing different,
need is need, I guess. He had some money 
thrown down already. Happy Spring to you!
But can you play 'Happy Trails'?
-
Which is all I want really. I'm headed back to 
the hills, those inoffensive highlands are calling.

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