Close the closing door, just shut it

chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
edited October 2010 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
All rooms are vacant
all are cold
more like hollowed out misery

Some rooms
have more cobwebs
than other rooms
yet they all share that spider

Her dressing rooms
all the walls
they idolized the tiny drunken reprobate

Her residence
behind the enclosure,
she,
a ballerina from ago before recent times, so it must be her spirit, I know she is gray and transparent, still the walls organize her things all by themselves, so I don’t bother labeling all the little memo papers that are pasted everywhere, I just close the door close the door close the close close the door close the door close the close close the close close the close close the door

Please
and thank you again for coming
for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."

Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • mysticweedmysticweed Posts: 3,710
    very moving cw
    read, reread, and reread again
    cannot find the words
    for the emotion impressed
    peace
    fuck 'em if they can't take a joke

    "what a long, strange trip it's been"
  • chadwick wrote:

    Some rooms
    have more cobwebs
    than other rooms
    yet they all share that spider

    you should've seen my place the other night when I dreamt I opened the door to my flat and was met with cobwebs in my face and before long I was covered in that lace white... crazy shit ...

    and this ballerina ... she's scary stuff.. especially her things ...
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