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my new home

March 20th, 2014 § 0 comments

Poem #348 for Karen Cigna

 

I want to walk amongst the ghosts
see the dark lights illuminated ominously
hear whispers in my ear down these ancient corridors

The horn will guide me home
drift on the fog through willowed grapevines
the spirits will catch my breath

The smell of smoked paprika and hot peppers
haze defines their silhouettes
tattooing their angst in the hope of the living

Stomach is hungry waiting for gumbo
ready, more than postured to be satisfied
death in life in all consumed apparitions of history

 

 

 

af

 

 

 

(written with pen on paper back home in new orleans)

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