Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Thursday, October 2, 2014

The thing that camps out all night on the cusp of your taste buds

by James Diaz

Hid under stove light
listening, leaning in
for rain water
the latter days of a badly lived life
your brow burning
with a story you don't know how to tell

fills me
but no light in the undertow
a body asleep
in its secondary life
a home is a secret
the bruises of youth buries
up to my knees
in a row of...

(how blood is no foundation)
tomorrows odds,
how a mother is no mystery

God if you are so compassionate
be still,
I have many arrows to throw your way
illegible body scribble
a pulse the bones bend with

it is your day to day
but I wont

then scream

after you,
I am after you.

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