South American Blood
I see your taint eyes
Like a tranquilizer at night
Cool ocean breeze
And swarms of bees
Your cold black ovals
Eyes squinting at me
Hearing your accent
A puke of innocence
Your black reversed letters
Commanding P’s
Your voice ringing bells
And alarms forgotten
Suicide phone calls
And dripping juices
Crimes and borders
Patrols of dinero
Thinking of multiples
And your name
Wish I knew it
And had a daisy in my hair
Feeling strokes
Wish I knew those folks
Rhyming with hatred
And tired old tires
Burnt lungs
And tropical trees
Mothers recalled
I missed the delivery
I missed your arms
Hardly knew you
You approached me beneath virgin lights
All I was; was a fashion freak
You rise a club
A dish or two
I eat plenty
Of your lost vision
© 1998 David Greg Harth
98.05.24.04:38:38@07430NJ