Finite Part I

His face was a sunset,
A time lapse of blood orange, purple
And blue night,
Rapidly squeezed sun before relaxing
Into the pallor of a watery winter star,
Jowls flaccid like a toad,
His lower lip unfurling
In an unrealized pout,
Blooming into a pink curl
Against his chin.

Mama tells me to go play outside,
Play outside down 8 flights of stairs,
As her fingers scurry at the telephone.
Play outside, play in the street,
In the alley,
By the splattered back dumpsters.
Play on the crust of concrete,
Over the suffocated dirt,
Over the spreading lines of the ashen grid,
While cars beetle into the fixed points,
Snorting like horses at the stoplights.

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~ by SimmerSnow on January 5, 2012.

One Response to “Finite Part I”

  1. Powerful words in this poem.. I’ve lived this though it’s no longer a part of my daily life you never forget . Well done

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