Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Bonjour de la Rose




Rosie's taken 
that pill again.

Painting the kitchen
with a finger-nail
polish brush,

Arabesques of cherubs
every three inches.

As her son
hacks with pneumonia,
She hums
an unwritten fugue.

There is a place,
One day,
Where cherubs
fly away as,
at sixteen,
that boy
opens his veins

and dies like
a promise.


A day when
Rosie tells a new love,
"You're just
like my son."

as Cherubs
weep down
dirty walls.

1 comment:

Beysshoes said...

This one merits an edit. It could be a fine ballad if you pitched an article here and there. It needs a solid rhythm.

... For example, feel the change in tempo if you just tweaked this into:

Painting the kitchen
with finger-nail
polish.

I really like this one. It's cool. Bey