twisted

you know it, i have twisted
like sleeves on empty arms,
 
sleeves on empty arms

 

sleeves on empty arms.

 

found ten dollars. stuck it in my pocket,
while grinning fiercely and imagining
two clowns wrestling in the mud.

*
two thoughts collapse: love,
and its beneficiary.

twisting, now. caught in a sudden wind
going, going, gone.
 talk destiny, while striding
into a gale.
Man has but one Master, me. I.
two-feet, walking.
twisted.
*
paint the slave onto some aged canvas,
he'll just walk into some other landscape.
with feet burnished by the red-rock, silica,
the cobbled track, the groaning crossroads
of slaves and crackheads. burnished feet,
i have seen.

 

calloused, broken, sleeveless. just a nightmare
seeking the entrance to a promised dream.

 

  i have twisted.

 

 

Reviews

[Steve Thompson]

I have twisted the sleeves on empty arms, like what you are doing, a very interesting read that takes a couple of glances over. I actually like that in writing. I love what you did with the word twisted. You made it a powerful word to use.
I think of someone who is innocent transforming in this piece, I am probably wrong. :)