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December 25, 2007

Feathers - 1 - The Santa Rally

With the Santa rally well underway
behind the long arm of the law,
the crowd has it and the man in the straw hat stands in the red marquee under the ballroom.

The seasonal demand cycle,
the nocturnal pulse,
one need never leave
the front-run it and perhaps get smashed.

What happens to the O-ring when you're wrong,
talking in the tongues again
a band of light across a blade of grass,
when it was never

by a single gesture.
We would move back,
dancing too close,
arriving at the wooden gates.

It courses through the cables laid for,
it mounts to the candles and beats
tender,
blue like the sky

and changes all the time.
Involved with the surge,
in the one-day dialogue meeting,
confines of New York to grab the greenie.

Enjoy some other sign of my will that people do not,
entirely specific of breathing in the spring air,
I am always looking away
or again at something after the photo gallery.

Not yet 10 p.m.,
Ms. Greenhouse takes a drag of her cigarette,
smiles away sweetly.
I wrap myself in slanders.

© Fortunato Caragliano. 2007-2010. All rights reserved.

Posted by lck at December 25, 2007 07:48 PM