Metromania (Original)
Bar tabs half soaked in lost beer
Start to disintegrate
My peace charts a companion course
On the road to nothingness.
Outside, the pregnant air hangs
In lazy condensation
Pouches that burst streaming tears on
Metal, glass, on all of me.
The art of the ignorant night
That, even now, tempts me to words
Vibrations to pass over tears
Onward from water to wine.
Am I to enslave the moment
In prepositions and hubris,
Claim some ownership of the art
That I just merely witnessed?
Secured away in my small box,
I set off enslaving the world,
In linked chains, sentence by sentence.
My obsession is complete.
Standing back, away from the work,
I question the capacity,
The necessary arrogance
Involved between words and the arts.
And sit down a spell, to write about it.
Images sourced from GIPHY.com
Thank you for spending time here.
| Other Works |
|---|
| True Color |
| Back to Earth |
| Burning in |
| Always Late |
| Unmasked |
| Entangled As We Are |
| Puerto Rico & Gunhill Rd. |
| The Native, the Slave and the Conqueror |
| Artificial Vibe |
He jotted ideas on the back of his bar tab, then watched them all fade in a pool of stale beer. Enjoyed, I have a poem somewhere about a guy writing poetry in a bar.
Haha, so you basically have a poem about me throughout my 20's? At a certain point, I preferred dive bars where I could drink and scribble notes on napkins that inevitably got lost to spilled beer. Metromania is most definitely a thing :)
Might be, except as I recall my main character was on older man.