Firing snapsA Poem by Jean-Pierre GarciaWasted around a campfirefelt nothing while you were out of your mind held you down after you hefted an ax like a badass a powerful woman I should watch myself around you You were drunk flailing to be free in the spit fire on the ground rolling in the mud cutting sticks and sticking them in your bra Safe keeping you that way was all that mattered Liar Holding you like that lying to myself lying awake in my single tent the colorful 6x10 teasing childs toy kept from a decade ago the fire is mine a second time, started up quicker before noggin to noggin oceans in eyes gone and you're wasted but you're in my arms and I can't think about that keeping you safe Didn't want to hold you back rather not listen to the crowd whispering happpiness dancing instead in dizzy circles holding up the courage to hold on but you reach for everyone else too and we watch closely like a creep everrryday but this time it's ok birthday presents aside reading what I haven't yet giving something I'm not finished with And the song is in the mail Later you stopped by hair straight purple leggings and sweater, sinking with a flattened matte you watched video games and said good bye i kept listening for post to post marked by the next time to howl past the moon and with every kiss on the cheek by the women wary of my movements promising five second restrictions You wanted to touch the ceiling before this time the stars weren't enough you'd rather float along the sky we'd tell you you were you didn't believe us you kept worrying about the one who didn't make it and how much you drank, you couldn't remember what was it, you couldn't remember and that musyt be bad listerine cool to temper the synapsing crackle in your head buzzing in a state of bees circling the drain ditch, we didn't know about the well and we lost the flashlight piggybacking the dark
© 2011 Jean-Pierre Garcia |
Stats
121 Views
1 Review Added on July 18, 2011 Last Updated on July 18, 2011 AuthorJean-Pierre GarciaSeattle, WAAboutI'm a gnomic meanderer. I have just the right amount of neuroticism to lock myself in my room to write, but somehow have faked myself out of it by writing on the go or for the student newspaper I wo.. more..Writing
|