hood

 

 

 

I have left the dark compartments.

Oblivious to season but far bolder in spring.

Forever there's a land complete of dreams

 

higher than this one, hillside by hillside.

I can find my way at night even by the

kept star.

 

I've never seen an ocean. Not that I have

missed its special hiss. Its flying fish,

its mountains under the sea. The stories

 

of the thousand men who perished by

the Bizmark, holding on in the cold,

grip slipping;

 

oil, their testicles as black as a frozen lash.

Some who went screaming with lucky sovereign, clutched.

Others just gave in to the wave

 

ashamed to die, misunderstood. Without

a final hug, a ribbon, a nude arm from a girl,

a gilded bright light,

 

sex, the sun,

the driver of the wind.

Reviews

[K. Louis]

This is lovely on the ears..especially that third stanza and all those s's and sh's....sex, the sun, the driver of the wind...gold.

[bobc]

h...nice poem this. Strong images and good pace. I particularly like the reference to the Bismarck and the last two lines...well done...bobc