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UNDERGROUND VOICES: POETRY
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JOHN DORSEY
Robbing Peter to Pay Paul wasn't that a western? not in my house where things were built to last like poverty my low self esteem was the only currency valued here my father's eyes gleaming the sun's insecurity was my only form of yoga i've never known true relaxation the restless heart i pray i never will dreaming i saw it on the side of a pittsburgh transit bus sam peckinpah was here like the ghost holding the remote in my father's still living hand his typewriter keys were always here in spirit to sing me to sleep whispering "the little boy inside you still weeps rivers for a lullaby of bones" hoove prints by my bedside a map to places i could never seem to remember i'd always wake up thinking "shit why must i always be sleeping when the magic happens" the ghosts of the seconds where i loved you the sun touching the earth's red cavity weeping loss it doesn't feel so much like raping the earth as our history tends to but a poem making love to the memories of stars our love dance a captivating intercourse spelled on invisable prairie the wind sings a sad song you never got to tell me and few have ever heard long or often enough to forget it is the only way i can remember you now John Dorsey currently resides in Toledo, OH. He is the author of "Harvey Keitel, Harvey Keitel, Harvey Keitel" with S.A. Griffin and Scott Wannberg, Butchershop Press/Rose of Sharon Press/Temple of Man, 2005, and "Moshing With The Cosmos" with Iris Berry, Magenta Press, 2005. He can be reached at archerevans@yahoo.com |
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© 2006 Underground Voices |
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