Tuesday, July 31, 2012

I am the Woman, You are the Road

Within an alternate universe,
Bernard thought of a verse
so precise and clean
like that of a dove
freshly drowned
in the waters of
a pond.
But on the opposite end
of an envelope,
a girl is licking her lips.
Bernard tries to not sway his thoughts
from the locking of the door
and the walk down the street
to the convenient store.
He must concentrate.
What if he says hello
to the wrong person?
What if that person returns
his greeting?

At this time, he stands on his heels.
Keys rattling in his loosely formed fist.
He feels too sick.

The girl snapped the rubber band
Her hand travels all over him
and her other hand.....
her other hand covers his mouth
so he does not screech.
Clementines do not mix with limes.

This is the day he had dreaded of
the most. Today is that day
to worry the most.

Black smoke smudges the
musky atmosphere  of the compact
apartment building stairs littered with
condoms and broken toys.
He is carried away and shoved into
a trunk of a vehicle.

Men laid out the road
as paths for freedoms
taken for granted.
Bernard looses his
battles and today
no one ever knows
how cheaply he ever
lived to pass the days
away till death arrived
in a most obscence and
unexpected way.
The police force and
investigative team
concluded, "He was
asking for trouble."

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