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H2O Recycled
She wipes garish makeup from her lips
because she's stoned,
a loner in the silent metropolis.
She flushes me down fauces,
labyrinths man conceals
in a maze of urban paradoxes,
forgetful of my sacred heritage.
Unreal age, rush and noise of city days:
Mums and lunch-hour dawdlers
unroll synthetic mats on grass
to broil their skin with U.V. rays,
sacrificial beasts on beer-can altars.
I’d not go willingly into bowels
of doomed cities, palaces, taverns.
Gravity pulls me down hollows,
now and then a glimpse of sidewalks
above, of homeless snoring
on thresholds, legs curled mindlessly
over iron gratings.
I spy a yellowish glow: a wedding-ring. Yours?
Your mascara was streaked with tears.
Flowing past tattered socks, foul jeans,
smegma of mangy bodies, cats,
I hear squeals of mating rats
slinking in gutters, climbing and falling
swish swish swish
into my sludge to reach the sea.
A shoe-sole gasps, taps
my oily edge, and is toppled over by a toad.
Chemically treated, H2O recycle mode,
I'm dumped in reservoirs and left to brew.
Breezy dawns spell hope,
I swirl into realms of heavenly hues.
Another Sisyphus, I must start over,
pushing not a rock but mammoth turbines
for city lights and miracles of your tap water.
Comments
Geezer
Sat, 2020-04-04 12:17
Thought provoking...
to say the least! I don't know, I read your comments at the end and confirmed that it is water. I think I would leave it as is. I do believe that anyone that needs a map or guide to see that it is; would have trouble deciphering the rest of the poem and maybe not understand it anyway. ~ Geezer.
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There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.
Gracy
Sat, 2020-04-04 14:07
Thank you, Mark. So glad you
Thank you, Mark. So glad you like it. I hope others understand it. It has been nominated and I believe published, but I don't remember where.Is that OK?
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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury
Geezer
Sun, 2020-04-05 14:46
It is I...
The Geezer. LoL
There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.
Gracy
Tue, 2020-04-07 21:13
It is I? Are you water?
It is I? Are you water?
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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury