suddenly all lights turn red

suddenly all lights turn red
one-legged men jump turnstiles
in feverish fashion

it is the night of the dead
the tawdry spawns
that float in night's parade
with empty grins
to a pale trumpet tattoo

whisk me to butter and eggs
whipped dreams and short cake

cruel cons crawl in the dark
legged low life walks with flags
certainty soars like dead flies

the casket is still open
faces constantly gain speed
sometimes time is a hideous grin




Poetry by Bob
Read 604 times
Written on 2014-08-19 at 00:42

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This just flashes colors and images all over the place. It reminds me of the day of the dead in Mexico, Carnival in Rio, and of life and death. Somewhere in there. It's an overload of feelings.
Wonderful!
2014-08-19