Derbytown
The tranquility of the azure sky
walking along Bardstown road this morning.
The antique shops still asleep,
faded taupe drapes
half closed because they spent themselves on grabby customers.
Continuing down Bardstown, balloons dance like confetti about the sandwich board;
entertaining customers eating cake.
Their small pets prisoners to white iron chairs,
demanding they get a piece of cake too.
The sun glows and tugs at each thread of my black sweater.
Among raspberry thistles and periwinkle chicory I got away,
away from the fighting.
In this city, I fell to its graces.
Wandering along the Ohio river,
the fuchsia sun burned like a spotlight behind the bridges.
Barges carry coal and everyone's grey matter realities,
rapidly waking the river.
Glass twinkles on sidewalks,
horses clap trodding down the street,
cars impatient and ignoring lines and derby kinsmen.
The city lights fell to its graces.
Mossy ground pulling my feet downward
we look for myths, apparitions of the couple that died-
sometime in the 60s two cars raced.
A rainy night just like this.
I grabbed a shoulder when the ground had a hold of my fears,
my heart fell down to my muddy and damp feet.
she laughed, but grabbed the flashlight
faster than she remembered to breathe.
A truck off in the distance
its muffler holding onto the opaqueness of the fog.
Being so warm, being so scared, being somewhere
not too far from here.
Dense black forest encompassing the city.
An antique within itself.
Polished my tarnished eyes
so I could work up the nerve to head home again.
The tranquility of the azure sky
walking along Bardstown road this morning.
The antique shops still asleep,
faded taupe drapes
half closed because they spent themselves on grabby customers.
Continuing down Bardstown, balloons dance like confetti about the sandwich board;
entertaining customers eating cake.
Their small pets prisoners to white iron chairs,
demanding they get a piece of cake too.
The sun glows and tugs at each thread of my black sweater.
Among raspberry thistles and periwinkle chicory I got away,
away from the fighting.
In this city, I fell to its graces.
Wandering along the Ohio river,
the fuchsia sun burned like a spotlight behind the bridges.
Barges carry coal and everyone's grey matter realities,
rapidly waking the river.
Glass twinkles on sidewalks,
horses clap trodding down the street,
cars impatient and ignoring lines and derby kinsmen.
The city lights fell to its graces.
Mossy ground pulling my feet downward
we look for myths, apparitions of the couple that died-
sometime in the 60s two cars raced.
A rainy night just like this.
I grabbed a shoulder when the ground had a hold of my fears,
my heart fell down to my muddy and damp feet.
she laughed, but grabbed the flashlight
faster than she remembered to breathe.
A truck off in the distance
its muffler holding onto the opaqueness of the fog.
Being so warm, being so scared, being somewhere
not too far from here.
Dense black forest encompassing the city.
An antique within itself.
Polished my tarnished eyes
so I could work up the nerve to head home again.
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