UNDERGROUND VOICES: POETRY
CHRIS MAJOR

High

Always orbiting
the seedy side
of town;
where 'Happy Hour'
neon lit paths
to done deals.
Doctors, counsellors,
a charity shop clad
dry house- useless.

Never plummeting depths
that made you stop,
'til a frosty February
when,
too high,
the tarmac hit
formed petrol bruises,
a gasping mouth
blew swallowed clouds.

Even now,
seven years on,
I wonder if you
found heaven;
smile,
when aeroplanes
trail their coke lines.........................


Chris Major's work has appeared online at Zygote in my coffee,
My Favorite Bullet, Remark, Lily, Stirring,Pemmican, Snakeskin
and Underground Voices.







2007 Underground Voices