1.11.12

red and black manet currents.

The tables turned
and I walk tip toe
back across charcoal bridges.

miss clavel
might call idealism
a sad and beautiful obsession,
warned me friends might turn
a colder shoulder,
laughed at my sardonic homage to the greats
of writing and high hopes.

but I've got dreams by the bakers dozen
dust storms,
red and black currents
fallow field, feral cat
and a full stomach, strings attached:
sleep.
I was never really good at that
false sense of
full security
final chance, old hat.

winter pulls a wooden plow
the growing season's short
the garden eden monkey wrench snake shoe fits.
sleeping dogs lie wide eyed
while pick pocket string beans
let slumber canines be. 



1 comment:

  1. the execution painting by Manet... it still gives me CHILLS, every since my freshman year! downright spooky Collin. keep up the good writing. -miss tea

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