TSM 176

Brown and mottled, 
hints of green and greasy,
a dog turd on the pavement
shifts, wriggles, takes flight –

Was after all a bird, evolved
to urban perfection, camouflaged, a
gum-wad and trash 
chameleon –

Jersey side, city tow trucks 
bag abandoned cars,
their rusted fins 
like clipped wings –

A windshield's three bullet holes: me, me, I 
check my rattlesnake boots in the mirror,
my Colorado birthright, Eden 
and Genesis with fangs –

As if the whites of my eyes still hide
my mother's pearl-handled revolvers,
dangerous and cordite
as her smile –

What did you ask me last night 
at 3AM? Are our dreams
just a thin paint job
on the rust of my ambition –

You and I who crawled 
back from the sea 
and returned to land,
a reflux of salt tide –

rises in the sullen river,
lapping at the pier.

The Sunday Muse

28 thoughts on “TSM 176

    1. Thanks Misky. Apologies I haven’t been around the Twiglets and such recently, has been hard to find time to write during the week. I will see if I can shake something loose from time to time.

      Like

  1. Really a fascinating and strong series of images, qbit. Each one seems individual but they all feed into the inexorable conclusion, and the sense of longing for the genuine in a sea of material, delusional, dangerous crap. I especially liked the fifth, sixth and seventh stanzas, and the perfect final lines.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. As the daughter of a woman with a hollow point heart, I loved the cordite line. I also really love those closing lines. Here we come, walkin down the street, inexorable as a red tide.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Pretty rough company here, Q. “three bullet holes”, during my twenties
    and single days, one of my buddies came back from Florida with a bunch
    of bullet holes in his car.
    ..

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I first read that as bullet holes in his “ear”, not “car” and was mightily impressed! After those first slurps of coffee however I’m reading more clearly. Still impressed though.

      Like

  4. “Are our dreams just a thin paint job on the rust of my ambition” There’s a novel in that one line. This took me on quite a trip. Life can be rusty and rattled for sure. Great writing!

    Liked by 1 person

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