Thursday, June 15, 2017

At the Train Station

At the Train Station

In another life, I was a child.
Crazy grass made me melancholic.
Runaway ponies taught me freedom.

I grew up inhabited by ghosts stuffed with promises.
Laughter was ruled by too much daytime.
I tried to open all my bags, repacked the past.
I played chess with love and desire
overwhelmed all heralds
& read the letters of the world
without permission.

I exasperated closed windows.
Haunted air took my lungs out for a stroll
vivifying the evening ceremony.
I became an expert in contemplation.
Memory was my favorite map
while rivers sailed in my pockets.

I sat at the station to shout forgotten memories
with other children as trains flashed by.
Big eyes were my political party.
Justice was unfaithful to us all.
I changed dew's booty with the demented image 
of an Elizabeth Bishop book of poems.

Died more than one eternity.
Looked at all the cities from the rooftops.
In the space of my voice,
it is always too early.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Blog Archive