Friday, June 15, 2012

Verve and Nerve

Spicy rancid lilacs
Removing the sweetness from the day
Mixed with the chicken fat, chicken grease fried smell
That makes him gulp and swallow the morning
Face the unwanted obligations
As the sun drops blind through
The reflection on a shiny cane
That hits the pavement with a thud
And yearns for a hand carved
Sleek, polished walking stick
That he will never see
Because of the wretched
Sweet and bitter
And the noise inside the silence
Cannot be contained within
That fragile eggshell
Of a life that wants to escape
And move on to a greater destiny

An impromptu bouquet
Of color in galvanized buckets
At the storefront
Under the striped canopy

With a shopkeeper that smiles
And hums a wistful tune
But it’s always a mixed bag
With the weeds in the cracks
And the rancid oil in the air
Getting more notice than the
Shopkeeper’s pure white apron
And the hospitable invitation
For a cup of the intangible.

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