the strand in poetry

your mourning heart still seeks you out
as you melt away in the city of the night
in the slums of your own lost reckoning
in smashed-up glass-strewn alleyways of meaning
sleeping rough there shrunk away
into a child of permanent need
no bigger than a churchmouse shadow
in the hostel of a million tattered books
in the shelter of a billion radical dreams
of living free of structure and of need
because he is gone or she is gone or
they are gone or it is gone
it’s usually a lover past
but it could’ve been a hero
a parent an ideal a village
that drove you into slums of muddy loathing
naked screaming
mugged from time to time for little you have left
wasted ‘til you could sleep in gutters
where once your toes could only stumble
you loved something
you loved someone
you loved some great idea
or place in space and time
you didn’t let go
you ate yourself away into a
half of a starving gnat on the streets
you tucked yourself away in nightmares because
the monsters were better than being awake but
your mourning heart still seeks you out
if it and you can see yourselves
to forgive each other and maybe yet forget
this shambles you’ve become and
begin to grow anew
give up grow up give up grow up
your heart still beats a homing call
blind looking for you somewhere

Last updated August 22, 2017