Poems - Zosangliana

Amongst the Velvet

These slow decaying evening days
have made me familiar with narrow streets
and tiled pavements that pass.
I walk under half moons and shy stars
until I'm at the broken down theatre in the old neighbourhood
where outside the street boys on their street bikes are accelerating
faster away into the night.
Combusting fuel and reflected white noise are followed by silence
followed by my friend who from a thousand miles away calls on the phone.
But I can only answer with wooden words
because my thoughts can't quite mesh together
when summer exhales in this little town in the hills
because I'm the room that hasn't been opened in a long, long time,
because I'm still waiting for my ride
repentant yet still hesitant.
Because I don't want to move from order to chaos
like the street boys in fourth gear breathing in equal parts
of numbness and speed.



For New Beginnings

All is well

I wanted to tell him, but I couldn't
To pry fingers into scars
into trances of cleansed inboxes,
passions and anger and ambivalence
for each other
To break his spell, where all is well
is whispered into ears
and poured in sleep
Don't make a fool of a Paris
of yourself
to think you and yours
can be removed to
a city of good and gold
and roam the cornfields of imagined heavens
in sleep together
Remember who you are
without her,
and what all that you can be
without her.