(no subject)

[claire_writes]

the sun poked it's fat belly
out from the under the shirt of the clouds
like a run away gold coin
trying to escape the delusion
and emptiness of a wealthy man's castle
as cars poured like a colony of ants
over the highways, I with them
believing the peach vagabond
could never sneak far
from the flame of the universe's gaze
for it was the universe itself
and suddenly after not having thought
of you for years
could not get the black sparkle
of your cabernet eyes
off the edges
of my palate. i could swallow nothing
but shards of dark green glass,
and the soil of your confessions
rising like steam off the hills of manhatten arms
while i pushed the tiny scales
up and down your
gold chain like a childless swing
forking a cup of coleslaw
like a fresh garden
in the hot bricks of the dessert
from the grey solitude of my
red chevrolet cubby
driving recklessly
anxiety high as a kite
the speed of traffic slow as sleepless sobering
between sips of diet coke
and chewing gum
bones growing wired and sad as my mother's
sratchless fragments of bob dylan
blowing best wishes bubbles
to women who vanished like youth
from his life to grill and pepper
their ambitions like hot summer steaks
through the wooden wand
of a green guitar and musing on a
tangled up in blue romance
wondering how many
shooting in the dark too long
boots had walked in and out
of my purple clover queen anne lace
and tripped their heels
through the revolving door
of my always vacancies
emotional straw motel.