by Curt Allday

this is not evolution-
its who i've always been
it was the greasy grime of who i have always
proposed to be and am:

"i am the marching pilgrims moving across pale, desert seas
living under the shadows of once ivory lands
they got lost in their pawn-like trees
their great symphonies send swollen syllables and similes
resonate through the armour of its starving bands
whose armies shout from top of the mountains
saying something about great decisions and great demand

while their victims circulate in and out of clouded air

like eels through porous coral
they weave,
they whirl
through every
into eve
they hurl
through envy and curls

of her hair while she sits and smiles for miles,
oh, the lady must have her dress behind her

and please

remain upright and in control

while the graves of great soldiers
sit silent with their symbols engraving
their war machine on others, it's
a still life in the background
floating high above their cities

a hallucination
of a once great nation

floundering under another
tsunami if only is the reflection of me
could i ever try to be accustomed and feel
the grinning face of fate
with its white, whale teeth
flooding the sewers of those
who are like me-

a long, tired street."

i was evolving
i was sitting in the car
parked alone, never want to be alone
shape shifting through invention
becoming wolves and sheep
watching the smokes of salvation
become long, drifting, eternal thoughts
rising like a revelation
hidden under the surface
trying to be loved and had

had i
did i
would i




Author's Note: about changing from the city around you, but when you find the city or place that is truly home for you- it wasn't an evolution, it was simply who you are supposed to be no fate, we find home

Posted on 03/19/2007
Copyright © 2022 Curt Allday

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