I shiver, naked under my cellophane raincoat,
walk in the traffic
hope this wanton behavior will provoke
a sudden rush of weeping birds,
a Paul Revere on panting horse
to shout his word at deafened ears,
the clang of bells at town centre...
hope it will flush out our heroes
whereEVER they might be hiding.
A bum on the streetcorner
grasps my hand
drags me from the path of a six wheeler,
hands me blanket and cardboard box.
Here lady, sit out the storm, he says,
never blinking an eyeat my puckered nipples,
never noticing we sit alone in the rain,
that Superman doesn't appear,
or that the silence that surrounds us
is like the inside of a heartbeat.
(Note: Blogger just now only would let me sign in by signing up to the new version and has swept me over, not knowing how this new version works. I hope readers with the old version will still be able to comment. We'll see.)
7 comments:
Cool poem. I love how the homeless man is portrayed.
You're in?? You got in?? Good for you. I'm beginning to think I'm going to be left all alone. *sniff* *sniff*. Great poem Pris!!
Pearl, thank you...and thank you, too, Pat. No, they'll never let you in. I wrote them and told them to watch out for you:-)
great stuff, pris!
i gave up on the old blogger and moved to a new place myself...
Hi Polona
Thanks. I seem to remember last visit you had a link to where you are now.
I moved into the new place too, but it's same as the old place
Hi mouse
I found that out, too,but since I also have google mail, it keeps signing me out of this account and I have to sign in my user name/password every time I respond to a comment unless I go to my dashboard first for a general resign-in.
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