Midnight Poetry: “Backseat Promises of a Midnight Lunatic”
Backseat Promises of a Midnight Lunatic
(Meri Magdalen)
It’s still there
like dusty old concert ticket
stubs, flattered by shattered
carnation corsage petals
aged in must,
at the bottom of a cardboard box
swollen from the damp
years in storage,
in pieces
not quite intact;
the thrill of Fisher speakers
pushed to the max
just before ten,
before anybody has the right
to be knockin’
at the door;
the rush of wind,
slipping in between
backseat promises,
gliding on the two-lane
blackness, flickering
in the orange glow
of a Marlboro
dashing to its fate.
It’s still there
like an old jig
saw piece slightly bent,
color vivid, corner sharp
enough to cut your heart, so
let it bleed,
spin a dance on the edge
of it, baby; full moon midnight
brings out the lunatic
in me.
.
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AuthorScoop
March 10th, 2009 at 8:06 pm
fantastic work, Mag.