Saturday, November 28, 2009

I'm on to you














Round town square, squealing
tires flat as week-old soda, flatline
upright. Stand, upstanding young man,
stand before luck, and say,
don't be a lady tonight.
Stiletto rides stiletto,
stiletto twist and we shout;
nobody sees cataracts empty nothing.
Remember, I remember
that road, Lethe, traveled.
Less is more, less and less.

Drowsy with grace, faces chase their prey.
Your roles were to caress and tempt,
kneading fire to crest,
mine was to lie in ashen boat,
a rich carbuncle wrecked on truth.
Loss of slit, throat slit,
arise! arise! to arms, to wings
lacerating dead air with prickly breath.
Updrafts abandon, wheel
for one last look, look
to see itself fall asleep.

19 comments:

Demeur said...

Ah yes and just try and get triple A out on a night like that at 3 am. Put on your overshoes boys cause it's a long walk home.

Holte Ender said...

Not just flat tire, but flat tires, there are some mean buggers out there.

sunshine said...

So.... are you saying that if I wear a pair of stiletto's you'll change my flat tires for me? Hmmmm... it's a deal!
I thought "loss of slit" was loss of clit at first.
Ouch eh? :)
I think I need glasses...... I keep seeing words wrong. Either that or I"m just a HUGE perv. ;P

((Hugs))
Laura

Mary Ellen said...

Wait...I'm confused. Are you angry because your wife won't wear Stiletto's or because she won't change the flat tire on your car? Or are you angry because your wife won't let you wear her stiletto's while you change the flat tire? This is too much for a Saturday afternoon, I'm supposed to be drinking and making merry and all that.

Tom Harper said...

"squealing tires flat as week-old soda" -- LOL. Sounds like something out of a Tom Waits song.

Randal Graves said...

demeur, I know, but all I've got are these lousy stilettos.

holte, shouldn't that be tyre? Traitor!

sunshine, if you'll wear stilettos in exchange for changing your tires, what naughty threads can I expect if I check your oil?

nunly, my feet would never fit in her stilettos. Why do you think I have my own pair? Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to write a poem actually about car trouble.

tom, hey man, I can certainly live with that!

susan said...

I like that a lot - so much so I can't think of something clever to say. Hmm. Do I ever? Never mind.

The imagery is most cool. Choosing a particular line or phrase would be unfair.

Liberality said...

a rich carbuncle wrecked on truth

wow!

Beach Bum said...

Had to look up "Lethe" and got a big laugh. Cause I did a boat ride once where my date forgot about me and hooked up with some other guy on another boat.

Westcoast Walker said...

I was just thinking that I needed a good stiletto and flat tire cocktail and by some twist of fate I stumbled upon your fine words - I must thank you sir - I can return to my ashen boat fully contented now!

S.W. Anderson said...

It's clear from this nicely illustrated post that those weren't mushroom slices in the turkey dressing. Don't worry, though. If you made it this far, the periods of unconsciousness will become fewer and shorter, and the double vision will go away. ;)

Distributorcap said...

did i stumble on the maya angelou blog AGAIN!

Tengrain said...

Graves, you swine!

I owned a Dodge once. You captured her essence.

Regards,

Tengrain

Übermilf said...

Plagiarist! I read this poem on the back of my Celestial Seasonings Sleeptime Tea box last week.

Cormac Brown said...

Hanging around Chappel Hill lately, eh?

Hill said...

Stilettos!

Help me. I've fallen and can't get u...

:)

Randal Graves said...

susan, I never make much sense, thus, hopefully fool 'em with verse.

liberality, thanks, but as a commenter points out, I stole it from the back of a box of teabags.

BB, he wasn't a skeleton, was he?

WW, think I should have added a tire iron?

SWA, I like mushrooms on pizza.

dcap, if you did, I want to know why my bank account is so empty.

tengrain, thanks. I thought going for the Yugo was a bit out of my league.

übermilf, shhhh!

cormac, xmas shopping. I'm hoping to barter for gifts.

hill, there's a way to make money, invent stiletto snowshoes, you'll never slip again!

Dr. Zaius said...

I am quite sure that if you knead fire you hands get burnt.

I think that you just like the sound of words like stiletto and carbuncle. ;o)

Randal Graves said...

You're not completely wrong. Part of why poetry is so much more interesting than macroeconomic textbooks. ;-)