this city is a woman
said the man on collins street
he held a brown bag of fortune
his eyes were salt
someone must love
this body of his
(i wonder if he beats her?)
over tall towers
gulls wheel and rise
trucks stomp and groan
to love a woman is
to try it out for size
what it is to be
a swollen fruit
i too, have a heart
full of redness and
dark seeds
i too, share secrets
and dark truths
this is a strange card game
we take our chances
when we love someone
until it's over
the heart of this city is
full of coughing and dead warmth
and men whose time is a lottery
the women in it are dark and mute
they hum songs as they hang laundry
some will always remain soiled
children are leaving this place
we must remember this city
is always a woman he said
he makes me feel
genderless
Comments
Loved it,
Loved it , you have an exceptional talent. Regards Roscoe...
Thank you
Very appreciative of your comments, I am still learning, always learning and always observing people and eavesdropping lol it's quite an inspiration for poetry it seems.
Mmmmmm.
Mmmmmm.
This poem is like smoke that dissipates after music touches water....
~A