POEMS‎ > ‎


posted Jan 21, 2010, 4:12 PM by David Storlie   [ updated Feb 17, 2015, 7:29 PM ]
Last night I hung 
my sleep out a sill 

till dawn 
I eloped 
the primordial 

of my 4-door

And walked by 
the light of gravel 
and the grin 

of the Moon.
Three stars led 

(Mars was its
closest of all
recorded time.) 

The clearest
I lost

7 hours of my life
of leisure 
I walk with difficulty

As I passed your house 
or his and hers 

The dogs would howl 
one’s wet maw, my wrist 
I feared. 

Otherwise alone, and 
long deer legs cracking 
twigs somewhere unknown. 

The forest was impenetrable 
I could not think 

my way through it 
even to enter an inch. 
I stayed firmly 

Planted on gravel heels 
sometimes running, always 

Walking faster 
and water was 
my greatest desire. 

I’ve never wanted 
woman more. 

Once though, I heard 
voices, saw people, a fire 
a circle, all standing 

Happy ritual,
I passed unnoticed. 

There is something spiritual 
in a campfire circle 
some magic that must

Not be tapped 
if you can’t equally replenish it. 

And when bodies of 
drunken men are 
elongated by fire 

The look ominous 
unfriendly, and you think 

Over the next hill I 
could be home, though
you know you are more 

Lost than you were 
when you set off from 

The wreck of your 
totalled park avenue 
with electric everything

which nobody would
ever drive again after you
hung it up last night.