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dr_con

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Lore

 

The first time I understood

a curse was in the hollow-wind

moving through endless winter-fields

fallow burrows-burial plots for spring dreams

 

a Greyhound bus on the road for my first visit

to the birthplace of my post-literary soul San

Francisco the home of Freak and Beat The

City with Coincidence-Control as a public

utility more in-tune with tide-pools

than the wave-cliffs of Manhattan

 

along the border where a drunken farmer

and his boy climbed aboard a streetlight

far from any streets the good-bye days

of chemical suchness finally ebbing away

leaving behind a truckstop-coffee mind

a place to rest only from necessity____the King of Buffalo Fools

dropped away

 

leaving the narrative of parents and friends

who knew he would die out-doing out-being

the creeping structures of conformity and self

not-a-problem until the inevitable bullet saved

for the 'Special' is fired passing through your head

with the ease of the last line-needle-smoke-drop-drink

the lucky ones losing their luck

 

dodging one-more-time

until the phone call of I-know-what-you-did

and the hate of it the promises made and broken

just another pact with an old-you one who doesn't serve

but preens and admires the shape of the gun as it is loaded

firing a curse in the hollow-wind moving past endless winter-fields

where we lie fallow in our burrows and plots dreaming of spring.

Gate(less.thumb.png.dc23b19d2478d37a9f6fcdc563973026.pnghttps://conjurd.substack.com/welcome Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-)

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Despite some spectral undertones, the poem gives the sense of being at home with one's self and his environs. I loved the hollow-wind and winter-fields in the opening and was delighted to see their re-occurrence in the closing. Perfect title.

 

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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The first time I understood

a curse was in the hollow-wind

moving through endless winter-fields

fallow burrows-burial plots for spring dreams

 

Nice opening of the poem, DC. This poem reads in one breath with a thought at the end: " what I have missed?! :). Let me read once again ". It leaves some anguish.

 

firing a curse in the hollow-wind moving past endless winter-fields

where we lie fallow in our burrows and plots dreaming of spring.

 

Wonderful connection between the start and the end of this poem, DC.

 

Much enjoyed.

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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