17th March 2009
I’m going to fix this world up for you.
A day of green and blue,
the smell of candy,
and an odd whiff.
I’m holding my breath for you.
Bright orange flashes from
a windowpane’s blur.
A warm sunny morning.
and naturally the breeze from the sea
cools the little city.
An accented pocket of chatter –
foreign; the shiny black shoes
the reminder of the words
of Ernest Hemingway –
”the first draft of anything is shit.”
Mildly moving at a constant speed –
”it’s all relative”.
The whir of outside ramble distracts me,
I am meant to be somewhere,
other than in a whir of a dream.
Should I dream less, or sleep more?
I’m going nowhere; I’m going to stay.
It will be over soon,
the sun will keep rising.
Oh, perhaps it’s less polite –
to say “You stink” –
heck, I’d rather smell the candy,
”Sir.. care to eat some more?”
Well now, so incredibly rude of the
subject. Still, and much not
moving the flabby weight of his own to simply give way.
Don’t look at me.
I hate your kind.
Oh you wouldn’t mean nothing, no?
At least, there is word.
You – impolite?
I’ll rip your nose off.
Purple. Oh, that’s my favourite colour too..
I wish it was someone.
That who held the place of impoliteness, in
similar transposition –
nothing, not you. Other than!
“It’s not real until you feel the pain.”
It’s you, the only star,
the one who brightens my day and night.