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Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Day 397 October 17 2015 Venetian Blinds





Venetian Blinds

If the eyes be the window to the soul,
then Venetian blinds my emotions,
blurring another Earth outside,
mandolin of light

When I open them white prisoner bars,
they clatter like the bones of saint death,
I jump - they list - like sinking ships,
Lusitania light

Hate cleaning all them individ'l slats,
dust and nicotine... remember man
yer made from dust and nicotine,
O, let there be light!

My tattoos are stained and polished tendons
like blinds with an equalizer cord,
tasselled with gold, yet indifferent
to my needs for light.


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1 comment:

Tom Schott said...

You have tatoos??? Tell me more!!

BTW, the country is disintegrating faster than I thought it would.

I haven't written a poem in months.

Cheers to you and yours.