Third & FranklinA Poem by Tkess
I heard it happened at Third and Franklin It’s not the kind of place you would want to be seen The steam that escapes from the manhole covers makes this place Look like it’s gonna blow An old man passes me on the street he says, “We are god’s reality show” The dogs move down Venetian Road as the hookers howl at the moon Like a Tom Waits song All the rooms smell like stale water and too much perfume I’m lost in the window and I’m lost in my thoughts We breed dream like delusions beneath the covers This all started off in the wrong direction The hobos are listening for the 8:15 out of this place This is the rhythm of the night; it’s not what we pictured The sky’s held together by Chimeras’ might, Golden eyes and sharpened teeth This night just sweats and moans; the sirens scream obscenities The woman in the diner was a looker in her day, but The drugs got her and The alcohol got her, but No one got her She just slipped away, floated to the end of the line God’s island of the misused Abused Thrown away, castrated blues Beneath This harvest moon It all Shines with a broken edge Dreams Ripped and shattered on the ground I feel it leave me as the train rolls on down the line And the city slowly disappears from the hazy-yellow window © 2011 TkessReviews
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StatsAuthorTkessPittsburgh, PAAboutWhen I first joined this site I provided a very vague profile of who I am. So, I figured I would elaborate a bit more on what makes me, me. I am 30 years old. For the past 7 ½ years I was a me.. more..Writing
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