Poem: Were

 

Were

 

overcome by what i was not,

i wandered Babel’s cacophony,

each city stacked on others

across unreadable sighs.

every crossroads offered a splintered moon.

i fell at women’s feet, not sure

if they were dancers who had blurred

and yet she was a fine fuse

i had chased as it sizzled and sped

through the twists of my urges,

deeper into the oil lamp of my heart.

i wanted to see her, but faces were prisms

within carousels of irregular sides.

i needed to dive into the river

of a hierophant’s salve,

glide a mandolin’s curves to touch grace.

i wound up drunk on nothing

but the rum of my sad questions,

waking up without my own bed,

in the arms of a half-rhyme, of commas and

exclamations i did not understand.

passion and i tangled together

in ways only artful swordplay could abide;

for the answers were monsters in storms,

there just for a moment,

as i struggled to pass through, to feel,

to contravene.

 

 

 

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1/12/26 mods all day

this is like a were animal kind of thing