by .adfs

Created on: April 28, 2008

Innocent hands clutchin' at hot coffee,
A juvenile attempt at fendin' off winter's steely glare,
The ice-cold moisture like rampaging missiles,
Entering negotiation with the wind.

Some kind of sociological report on the feet,
Impoverished and plunged into deficit,
A splash of whisky dissolved by a polluted breeze
Two tragic heroes flailing under this sea.

Drunk hands, slidin' open the door,
The handle is worn,
like the dark circles of blank narcotic eyes.
Cheap corridors with plastic chairs,
Unconcerned, unaware

Wet socks scold the concrete,
The abuse of gravity so slightly tainted with water.
Spinnin' a quarter, then a dime,
Towards a timeless soul,
Anchored by remorseless reality.

A majestic creature, dying slowly,
Staggerin', drugged yet bemused,
The jailed heart throbs, pierced by sunshine,
Baffled heat as Poseidon refused.

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