Red
Red
2.4.09
Red marshes slip oozing hungry over
Burning itching feet that can’t
Help but give in to quiet familiarity,
Even if it’s not allowed
Even if it reeks of
Nowhere walks winding.
Twenty journeys too many, perhaps, too much-
But memory proves difficult to shake and scuff
Skeleton white hands dirty reluctant to relax
Cajoling, pleading, holding on
I remember there was a time when
Everything fit. I crossed continents loping,
And people said I hit the moon jumping
Too high on Hermes’ time and
Wasn’t I the bold one and
Wasn’t I everything my feet had made before me
Well I don’t know if anything’s true
Besides what I saw, milky white eyes
Staring up through blurring vision against
Bold bouncing red, brash, my battleflag
Flash and steady and laughing with someone else’s voice
Looking down to listen I suppose, is what feels most like
Going home.
2.4.09
Red marshes slip oozing hungry over
Burning itching feet that can’t
Help but give in to quiet familiarity,
Even if it’s not allowed
Even if it reeks of
Nowhere walks winding.
Twenty journeys too many, perhaps, too much-
But memory proves difficult to shake and scuff
Skeleton white hands dirty reluctant to relax
Cajoling, pleading, holding on
I remember there was a time when
Everything fit. I crossed continents loping,
And people said I hit the moon jumping
Too high on Hermes’ time and
Wasn’t I the bold one and
Wasn’t I everything my feet had made before me
Well I don’t know if anything’s true
Besides what I saw, milky white eyes
Staring up through blurring vision against
Bold bouncing red, brash, my battleflag
Flash and steady and laughing with someone else’s voice
Looking down to listen I suppose, is what feels most like
Going home.