I sat in the silence of a
Room eight times larger than I know
And I absorbed the six hundred
Empty chairs.
And I wrapped myself in
Miles of white fabric
And learned the feeling of
Sitting on an escalator.
The clean lines and plate-glass sunshine
Of Hermes's aqueduct
A secret passage everyone knows
You cannot fade into floral carpet.
It is a jaunty expression
To consume a length of sub sandwich
While strolling down an ally
Aware you may get mugged.
And over the years I have begun
To believe that teenage girls
Should not have camera phones
With their sneaky minds.
Somewhere along the line I learned
How to think, that silence
Is a virtue and precisely the best
Way to be alone.
I will never forget
The chandeliers of
Trapped Christmas lights
Painted in a warm glow.
Hook your arm in mine to
Stroll upon this concrete
And we will share this half
Gallon of lukewarm milk.
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 11:35 AM UTC
I sat in the silence of a
Room eight times larger than I know
And I absorbed the six hundred
Empty chairs.
And I wrapped myself in
Miles of white fabric
And learned the feeling of
Sitting on an escalator.
The clean lines and plate-glass sunshine
Of Hermes's aqueduct
A secret passage everyone knows
You cannot fade into floral carpet.
It is a jaunty expression
To consume a length of sub sandwich
While strolling down an ally
Aware you may get mugged.
And over the years I have begun
To believe that teenage girls
Should not have camera phones
With their sneaky minds.
Somewhere along the line I learned
How to think, that silence
Is a virtue and precisely the best
Way to be alone.
I will never forget
The chandeliers of
Trapped Christmas lights
Painted in a warm glow.
Hook your arm in mine to
Stroll upon this concrete
And we will share this half
Gallon of lukewarm milk.
Copyright 6/9/15 by B. E. McComb