6/23
A blue coughdrop lost in the depths of Marlowe’s
sport coat pocket like a spelunker run out of
luck amongst vampire bats & subterranean
phone numbers no one answers gives up the ghost
gasping We are such stuff as dreams are etc. &
sinks like a mollusk that’s lost it’s shell into the
godforsaken depths of a lachrymose pre-socratic
tidal pool tastes like a stale Carling Black Label
& it wasn’t so long ago either Jekyl Island GA
June 1988 Jane did the australian crawl in a
lukewarm ocean of interminable love or at least
sex with loads of good will behind it like
a waterbed on castors with a burnt clutch lurching
like the subway Marlowe now stumbles into
Jack Hayes
© 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
3 comments:
Oh yeah, love & sex in the ocean at Jekyll Island or as in my case Port A.
That's about the right time frame.
Cool poem... I'd hate to lose something in Marlowe's pocket.
lukewarm ocean
loads of goodwill...
waterbed on castors with a burnt clutch.....
sounds like the dreams I've been having
fantastic metaphores
I always enjoy your site
Hi Lizzy & Dianne
Lizzy: I apologize for missing this one! Thanks--Marlowe's pockets were notoriously messy.
Dianne: Thanks so much--always a pleasure for you to stop by & comment!
Post a Comment