Tuesday, July 12, 2011

The Street

the street gives
beneath my long strides
under a cloud cluttered
sky, painted blue and white,
with froth and frost
and i know
somewhere you
are under this sky and my
pain returns
while the street gives
a steady pace of reality
that no matter how many
vodka tonics i swallow
and sad songs i listen to
and dollars i give to
those promising to
take away the memory
you’ll be there
mocking each step as
the street keeps giving
and my legs keep moving
and the past remains
behind me, so far away
like i wish
the sky would fade
and the street would
travel to that place
without  the horizons
of you



  1. Love the repetition, the persistence of "the street gives". Last 3 lines are a crisp, grey ending to a well-written piece.

  2. old stuff haunts us doesn't it...