Monday, February 8, 2016

Poem - Sailboat Wars

Sailboat Wars

August, 2008

Sailboats race along a puddle’s
edge while dancing children,
triumphant in their
games, slip noisily behind.
Green grass, slick from rain and
scattered with red balloon corpses
remembrances of the birthday
clown, driven from the field of
battle by icicle swords and
peanut allergies.
You do not envy his escape, his
defeat, you, a dark figure waiting
wondering confused at the paper
eviction – prison in your hands
A sailboat tips, one child
mutinous against another’s crew
follows the king snake away
from the shelter of mothers’
eye, knowing freedom for
a few veiled seconds before
chastising hands pull him
back to slushy puddles and
sailboat wars.
Is this what you see? When
looking through your grimy
window, salvation in mock battles and
magic games.
Is he thinking of snake holes and
gnomes dancing under stones
where more interesting prey
waits for sunlight?
Battles end but the warriors are not
ready to return to the
mundane.  Stomachs call for
feasting and for
rest before another hunt.
Or perhaps you see
nothing, through your haze of
cheap liquor and stale cigarettes,
television wars and satisfaction
addicted to the death of bones.

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