Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Poem After Paintings

watermelon rind sunset
gives way to the stench of a
night gone bad before
the last ray of sun
punches out for the day

like a dog-tired man
in faded blue jeans
stained and with a scent
all his own

besides, she won't notice
if he turns away
when she reaches the door
like a nun at a window

of stained glass
this night is a relief
this day was a catastrophe
we throw barbed wire

across the table
daring each other to bleed
what was sanity
pools like spilt milk

under the stars
welcome me
I am bettter
in darkness.


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