I wish I could say
He smelled like scotch
(Or any spirit for that matter).
Instead, he reeked of runoff
From the Fountain of Youth.
His lips stained
By the Holy Grail.
His promises
Of a better tomorrow
Received a one-day extension—
Always—
Moving closer to
Reaching the rainbow's end,
Catching the leprechaun,
Stealing his pot of gold.
His collect calls,
From the yellow brick road,
Purveyed the words:
“You sound like a man, kid.”
A childhood missed
On both ends.
And then,
His ship came in.
A stable of unicorns,
The rarest breed,
Below deck springing
Unseen leaks
With diamond-tipped horns,
Slowly sinking hopes
In a make-believe harbor.
3 comments:
I'm back! Some good stuff while I was gone. I'll try to comment on it later.
Here's my post for the day. You could say that Chris' "Role Model" inspired me to write this. Enjoy!
Welcome back, Mr. Vogelman! You came back with fury. I love the images in this poem. There's plenty of contrasting images in the poems this week, and yours plays with contrasts as well. I love how the Step-dad's failure (or success) in avoiding the cliches that most stepparents embody is told in the breaking of the fantastical cliched stories that we're all used to. Well played, sir! Hope you enjoyed San Fran, bud!
The first stanza is so beautiful. I think that the images are perfect. I love the spirit line and your overall tone here. There's a tone that's not bitter, just a matter of fact kind of "fuck you". I really like this one bro.
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