My initial reaction to finchy’s work was not positive. I thought that she is a prose writer and maybe poetry is not her thing. But I have read her almost every poem on this board. I think this is one of her better work.
Friday, November 10, 2006
for a boy i used / to know
a junkies palette of primary colours
reflects / green red orange / off the wet pave ment /
it's 3 am in the morn ing
& we are doing / the east side shuffle
the east side / getting high / getting
down / getting home scuffle
& that boy / with his tattoo skin /
cover ed in / ink / coat ed in / pain
keeps pace be side me /
a skate board under his arm
he looks at me /
& rain drips from his eye brows
his worn converse runners / slop a long
as we / trace the bus route / back to
the cock roach hotel / also known as
13th street / the place where i live
november rain soaks us
my hair stuck wet / to my face / &
my jeans are heavy / plaster ed to my legs /
& my hands are red / & my hands are cold
34 city blocks / fuck /
i wish i had a car /
& that boy
he smiles @ me /
& tips his face to the sky / his veins
are full / of sugar water & poison
& / i want to get him home to 13th street
to where i live / so i can taste his hands /
so i can press up a gainst /
his shiver ing body
rain falls / in never end ing streaks /
white lines spill thru the haze of coastal fog /
block after block / of orange
street light & white rain & we / keep walk ing
there is no end ing / only the middle of
the end / there is no / love / just attraction
we have / cigarettes & speed /
it's a mutual under stand ing /
there is no moral crisis / there is /
only me & the boy walk ing home in / the rain
/
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2 comments:
good to read your words again
This is fucking awesome! I love it! You're good my friend. Be back later to read this one again.
Good Morning!
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