Do Not Alight Here…

…the sign on the platform read

provoking that bloody-minded reaction

he saw as proof of living a life

still worth it, worth everything

worth going to bed

with a stranger once more

here might be the place

that could throw things up

burn the throat, whet the tongue

revive, refresh, rekindle

the screech of parakeets

colonising plane trees in the park

after-dark sounds on full reverb

in daylight on streets

of colour, black to white all blood

everyone from anywhere

who’ll do something, anything

no more bi this

no more buy that

stop and search me, why don’t you

I’m game as road-kill

as smart as street crime

as sharp as a wife

given half-a-clue to step out

and start out anew

~

n.b. NaPoWriMo 2021 Button with white background Day 3 here is how the cards fell when I cut the deck: whet, game. (For TC).


NaPoWriMo

~

CLP 03/04/2021

5 Comments

  1. Love the urgency in your poem, Chris, especially in these lines: “burn the throat, whet the tongue // revive, refresh, rekindle”–wonderful!💜

Comments are closed.