Sunday, March 25, 2007

i can't waltz

there are rags aplenty, here and there
torn and shredded, tossed
where ever i have walked
pieces of a life gone dark
and incomplete

shirts and blankets, coats
for wedding days, for sudden
black parade in funeral cloth
for mothers sitting spare
alone with griefs

something shapes my days
careless, and a little beggared
and i'm slowly deconstructed
step by step, leaving traces
in the years

life is woven by petty gambles
day or night, the game proceeds
let me stop and chance
with the surly neighbor boys
pennies, or some dimes

are you listening to the hawkers
do they offer you the special
and refined salvation that
the monkish fellas stole
can you remember
?

don't gather these rags
their day was never brightened
by the sun, they offer just
a story, maybe wrecked by lies
probably

fancy parties by the lake
splashed with lemonade,
singing tunes from an old man's
rum, and where i danced
all passed away

there are rags aplenty, but
leave them for the dust
here and there, wedding days
books and photos, i
can't waltz

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