Captured

he wouldn’t run away from her sunny days
he wouldn’t rush the thought of drowning
he wouldn’t put shutters on her April haze
he didn’t like the sound of foundering
he’s up to all his tricks in his usual way
he’s twisting in the wind
he’s rounding the corner
coming up in his Chevrolet
he’s ditching in the drink and clowning
he doesn’t give a damn
about the family of man
he doesn’t care a whit for merry compassions
or for the cowed, or for the damned upon
and for them doing the damning
he’s in the pink
the master of the wink
he’s in the sky with all the angels
he’s got bells upon his teeth
and whistles in his knees
he’s revved and fully upstanding
don’t listen to his babble
he’ll wash you out the door
he’s full of double-trouble
he’s weak and scared and bored
he’s batting up a storm
in everything that’s torn
and he’ll keep you in the drink
until you sink

April 10, 2012

By | 2017-05-16T15:30:54+00:00 May 16th, 2017|Poems|Comments Off on Captured

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