No More Poems To The Dead
Be still for a moment.In the year that I lost you
I drank more than I ate,
roads stank of curbs
which reeked of red
and peered over looming space.
I said: hear now,
in the hour of my undoing,
I reject you,
oh my dead friend,
your fearful symmetry cannot fold me
into the syllogism of paper cranes.
we are done,
finally.
There is nothing left of us,
not even a memory,
not even love,
this evening is just another crest
against the chest
while the heart still beats
to be broken.
Poetry by Charlie fan
Read 760 times
Written on 2009-03-29 at 07:44
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