Jim Trainer


In poem, Uncategorized on May 3, 2018 at 2:29 pm

Celebration is the way I walk
legs scissoring through
downtown stares on the avenue
pull heavy on the door
and posit, here, behind the glass
decaf appears like a familiar, like
a black unblinking seer’s eye
it’s steam caught, mid-air
in present tense
the gay bike messenger boy
leans to, his posture a question?
and his eyes so I’m sure
fuck outta here
I’m between cities like Jesus on the
weekend and the platinum out the window
is heaps more my speed
she’s the kind you get lost
with and never found
towers reaching up around her
like they could poke the somnabulant
sky and make it rain
I leave him in there
and the steam in the air
catch my betty’s eye
and hold it like a prism
I walk, North, into my city
holding the rain in its clouds
arms out like a scarecrow at a yellow
the wind on a florist’s awning
makes it flap to
and ripples through the rows of blooms
like all the flowers are laughing

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: