THE HIDDEN TRACK

The following passages are dedicated to Leopold, to the vernacular, to certain evil women (you know who you are), to certain wonderful people(they know who they are), to soft afternoons and quiet Sunday evenings, to Fall and seeing your breath for the first time since Spring, and to Isabelle Ya Feng ... a soul slipped by like two ships passing in the still, moonlit sea.
-- Abraham Ahmed, the Surfing Beatnik



The Giant Hethros...

Twelve o’clock shifts and green-eyed ladies,
Styrofoam cup rims stained with coffee.

Money devils barking, the human desire:
Duraflame logs for their structural pyre.

“Alas, I understand.” Hethros proclaims,
His victim of love, his heart set in vain.
Posted by

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)