RED WINE

January 28, 2008

It looks like blood,

but it’s red wine,

that slash across the wall.

A faded scarlet sash.

 

I piss

and shake my head

to chase away the nightmares.

What happened in the night

 

to send me hurtling,

hurting,

in the throes of visions,

vivid

 

emblazoned

unconscious?

It is so different,

there is no control.

 

Involved in a private show

and unable to leave.

There is a switch-off,

but I cannot throw it.

 

At some point,

I am beached,

ejected by the raging miasma,

 

left gasping for air

and fresh water.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: