I see teenage girls run to the curb
in transparent shirts,
A man slowly crosses the road
fending off the burning lights
struggling to breathe in their heat,
Our tongues dry,maybe the throat too
There are unformed breasts waiting to jump out
and there are confrontations we avoid
As slippery as the tongue might be
No word is smooth enough to be true
when whispered to a man who knows his way,
It is 9 o clock in the evening and
most people know where they are going..
There are confrontations as slippery as the tongue might be.
ReplyDeleteWe are the formation of all manner of salesman and thieves. We've been sold a bill of goods and reduced by all we did not vault. And yet still, I feel there is a turning point at which we captain our own vessel. If not, then there is no hope other than what we parcel out to others.
Your talent always amazes me friend!
i keep reading, there are unformed beasts waiting to jump out and somehow this adds to the line what is in the line itself already, something leashed fighting to be unleashed. i love the specificity of this poem, manik, and the last line - how can anyone know where they are going, and yet they believe it is so. this is startling, soothing and unsettling all at once, for surely even in their belief they are wrong.
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erin
Annie,
ReplyDeleteThank you for your kind comments..a formation of salesmen and theives..I love that parable...i guess when that turning point comes is when we realize the vessel needed its captain...and we just weren't prepared for it...when have we ever been...
Erin,
Thank you for stopping by...Belief is the colour we all love to paint by...sometimes the canvas remains at was before...infact most of the times...but that does not stop us....i give it up a occasionally....and it is good fun i'll tell you...
"No word.... knows his way", wonder how many of us knw the way that prevents getting carried away by the suave alphabets..
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