Settling; in the night stand of an empty hotel room
Clumsily folded in between off-white pages
In a dusty Vonnegut novella-

Lining; discounted cardboard shoe boxes
Deep under the the tattered green print
Seats of a railway car bound for Union Station-

Hidden; boldly taped to the foundations
Of three seemingly identical rental houses nested
Along the achingly quiet streets of Evangeline Parish-

Shreds; spilling out of rusty, dripping exhaust pipes
From hardtop '75 Caprices to '65 Fastbacks
Turning the air into speckles of white and blue

[A man spending his whole life--
Concealing love songs in the most broken of places]

Somewhere, her breath will, if only for a moment,
Fog an otherwise lackluster frame
And the only melodies consuming her mind
Are those of the one--

Foolishly, but unabashedly, released from the lungs
Of the man with two feet on the ground
But his head in the clouds

03/12/2012

Posted on 03/12/2012
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