Friday, September 25, 2020

Poetry Friday - thick air

thick air.  tonite
I got no prospects
& I’m spinning slow
in this silky cocoon
hot damp & soft as
somebodys address
& phone no. you
held clenched in
your hand too long.
queens on stilts
wade through the dark
marshy streets.  the
stars are pale and misty
like far-off streetlights,
the trees sweat &
droop in the milky haze.
I am drawing from
life if you care to
call it that.  tonite
I will be hard to
please.  honey
I wouldn’t have you.
cool & deliberate i
stand & dust off
my jeans for the
swim home.  tonite
it’d take more than
that to faze me.
thick air.  thick air.


[Written on a humid night in the summer of 1977.]