david jewell poet

words. photos. images. whatnot.

no comment

a sweet voice in the clearing
reaching a point of understanding
having nothing particular to say,
waiting for the cat to leap

from the bag of memory,
watching television
upside down, listening to
commercials backwards,

culling the time–waitng
for a toothache to disappear
in the worn hypnotic night,
drinking cognac every minute

and lighting expensive
french cigarettes
with gold lighters
after dining at the castle,

while waves lick the
shoreline and everything
is forgotten once again.

Comments are closed.



categories

Blogroll

Archives

August 2013
S M T W T F S
« Jul   Sep »
 123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031