AT THE BARRACUDA LOUNGE. 4 JANUARY
by Richard Fox
genre:
Poetry
description:
From the forthcoming book, "Swagger & Remorse," out NOW.
chapters
chapter 1:
from "Swagger & Remorse"
from "Swagger & Remorse"
chapter 1
—
updated 08/01/07
—
777 characters
—
0 people liked it
I never found my Shangri-La—
I walked past it sometimes,
my mind as heavy as fruit;
my love for you, simple as a berry.
Here in the carnivorous dark,
darkness darker than the
virgining night that invisibles
the yard,
a hint is better than exactitude;
nearness, better than location.
I hold a rung of bourbon
in my mouth like your tongue,
but for just a moment longer
than I should.
Your love should taste like
burnt caramel, but your love
tastes like a night that is endless
& everywhere at once:
O my love, what should I do
now that everything is wrong?
I am apprenticed to these matches.
Evening swifts bourgeoning
in cross-streetlamps like pissing
punctuation.
I await punctuating like I wait for
the waiter who reminds me of you.
back to top
I walked past it sometimes,
my mind as heavy as fruit;
my love for you, simple as a berry.
Here in the carnivorous dark,
darkness darker than the
virgining night that invisibles
the yard,
a hint is better than exactitude;
nearness, better than location.
I hold a rung of bourbon
in my mouth like your tongue,
but for just a moment longer
than I should.
Your love should taste like
burnt caramel, but your love
tastes like a night that is endless
& everywhere at once:
O my love, what should I do
now that everything is wrong?
I am apprenticed to these matches.
Evening swifts bourgeoning
in cross-streetlamps like pissing
punctuation.
I await punctuating like I wait for
the waiter who reminds me of you.
Did you like this?
vote
