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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 11:09:05 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 153985
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => There's a Song by Tom Waits
[time] => 2009-10-11 13:56:08
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Called “Grapefruit Moon.” As I sit here In the back of this empty bus I can see the snow falling outside And I can feel the gears churning inside And I can hear his words entering my ears Like a tender bruise. Bouncing, Nodding to every pot hole. Swaying to the rhythm Of the street. That croupy voice- Like a thousand crows caught in his throat- Strains and snags As his fingers pluck nightingales from a piano And I can see the smeared snowflakes On the dirty bus window coalesce Into the shape of A grapefruit. I can grab it I can slice it in half I can plunge my fangs Into it’s pink flesh, so alive I can feel it pulsate against my tongue, And I feel like a vampire As the blood drips and drops Onto the leather Of the tattered bus seat Circa 1988. The song ends. The crotchety bus driver shouts “LAST STOP” Or something like that. I can’t go any further So I fumble for my backpack, The wet rubber floor is slippery, I can’t walk So I grab the handrail And leave. As I exit the bus, Exhaust fills my lungs I can’t breath So I cough. I look around, I can’t figure out where to go So I hit repeat on my iPod And walk alone into the night, Beneath a moon that is no grapefruit, But the bottom of a shot glass. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 136 [topic] => 21 [informant] => proudestmonkey [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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