Fuck it. Cold October
nights rocked the Columbia
as details hazed. Lights
shattered on the river. What
they call reflections. Sex
no longer Mystery but what
dripped from our cigarettes inside
the teeth of the colossal wind.
The stars sprayed out like tic-tacs
on the reckless river. My coat
held open just across your beating back
as if I wasn't stopped by everything, the wind
straight through us like screen doors
banged by wind. Lights shattered
on the river, and who wasn't reckless.
Steeped in the force of fall, nobody
ever questioned. As for myself,
I shoved against you, rough as tides
at every push. And as for you, it's best
your daily blackouts wash away
the way we gambled everything
with holes in both our pockets,
shooting the indifferent moon. As if
we could change anything, as if we had
-from the chapbook "Smithereens" by portland poet Starlite Motel
http://www.nightbombpress.com/
"we gambled everything
ReplyDeletewith holes in both our pockets,
shooting the indifferent moon. As if
we could change anything, as if we had"
beautiful. thanks for putting out on the river called internet.
welcome, thanks for coming by!
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