Shooting the Breeze

Hidebound, spellbound, /but the lift I felt /seemed so light /I was astounded. Remittances came along/ in a singsong series; I dug my fingers into bank notes,/ teeth clenched. /I like the way my blood boils/ as I spend what’s remaining./ Ahead of the game, I start bluffing, put dope in the tea. Pretending she knows the answer /she ripped up what was left/asking simple questions/ about hammers and sickles./ I said- they’re part of a collection /from mad scientists worldwide /painted on my wall,/ bees and butterflies /made on distant continents./ Signs of the kind of thing I collected./ I thought to switch to fishes, /those animals without gender. /Your wish is my command. Please don’t forget/ your arrows from the caravan / I can’t put my finger on it/ I can’t move ahead.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s