I”M SO FULL OF NERVES.
and I’m Back to this,
sodden and condensated
green slime around the sides
like the rot on the ledges of the abode, that so stubbornly summons me
sucking life out in endless tall orders,
Oh mother it demands.
But the more I touch the more it crumbles, and I ought to tie my hands and call it done.
Eventually I’ll have to hand her over,
Pure brilliant white,
for some oik to grease up,
dribbling tea up the stairs and blue tacking blue tack
goddamnit use a nail, then.
Forever i’m Up and Down, the same artery road
that lazily pumps and disperses all that city traffic into the nethers and beyonds.
Back and forth between resting my bones
and earning my keep to rest them and all along,
the walls of sandstone look like sea worn catacombs.
They’ve soaked up hundreds of those miserable
days of rain that streak the glass,
it all permeates from the sad old sediment.
Damp air and the grit and the decaying leaves
Gold-flakes and mud stick to your feet as you trudge wet breathed,
a drip forming on the nose.
I’m almost sentimental, almost always,
almost too much so and still open to surprise.
Break throughs happen all the time,
heavenly powder perfect skies draw up and out of this
seasonal sludge.
I haul in the cold air and hoof out a hazy breath
and look out always almost hoping, almost always
expecting for old blue eyes to show up too.