Archive for November 18, 2011

Remember When We Were All Fresh?

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 18, 2011 by dc

They took the toy out the box,
The jeep from the car lot,

They woke up with bed hair,
Chipped nails and pale skin,

The salon was a distant memory.

And now we’re here
With a filing cabinet
No-one will ever use,

Explanations
And dirty palms,

A nasty taste
In the back
Of our mouths,

Sniffing on optimism
Like the desperate
And sweaty,

Alone with our
Crossed fingers
And daydreams.

We are briefly ghosts
Let loose on dead shipyards,
The scent of sea salt heightened
And the knots of something hollow,

Were it not for the hope
We breed in our nightmares,
We could easily just drift away

And laugh
Across the waves,

Spared
And never grave

Again.