Wednesday, June 6, 2007

Baseline: A Blues





I'd sing you anther one, but I owe my soul and have little left to praise you with but me--and that's how we got here, twisted in these worn blue sheets in this shadowed, familiar room. The candle burns, cloying incense penetrates the smell of two humans in lust--I'd sing you a new song, but you've probably heard it all before--and the window facing Eight Mile cries a wrenching blues for us tonight, enough to make us sound like animals struggling in twisted, dirty sheets, stifled under it's low sultry moan. I'd sing you one more, but I have no soul left to make it ring true. The rush of engines roaring in great swells of bass and a mechanical rumble. A gunshot rings out, followed by three more--desperation to kill echoing in the reports. Tonight, nobody speaks another word. Tonight, the Baseline will provide a rhythm that tells us we are still alive through the crush of humanity loving and dying around us. The city has spared us tonight; let it mutter and sigh, as we roll over and down into the shadows of familiarity, burning our last love low, before our skin and flesh ignites with their gritty midnight song.

5 comments:

Susan Miller said...

Oh, sweet need. Shared desperation, passion even in its most animalistic form is required to survive it seems.

Nice, Eric.

maleah said...

This is a familiar place. Even if the sheets weren't blue. Very pure and I connect with it.

eric313 said...

thank you both reading me. It's a good thing; people who love poetry. I won't let any of you down, or at least I'll try not to.

Cheri said...

I love this

eric313 said...

thank you, cheri

no matter what else, ever, I'm glad to have seen this small compliment. Thanks for being cool. And for understanding. I'm glad to understand you more, now, too.

Sorry to have sent you my number that time. To tell you the truth, I only wanted to here the voice of someone who had so many nice things to say to me. I still remeber that. I remember realizing so much of it was mystery of not being able to remember me. It felt sad to tell you and remind you, but I had to. Why sad? I don't know. It just kind of was.

Hope you see this sometime. Just so you know, friend. It's in print, right here, hanging in air. Thanks for your comments! All of them! You made me laugh and smile and for that, you are priceless.