I need some good words ****** into me

or

I need to find the right lines

to right me.



traveling the tides of time

on the backs of

Bradford blossoms,



the stench of carrion nostalgia-

I heard it was the strongest

of our longings-



to become such as fossils,

to relive what were.



a million reasons to be

distracted.



a million reasons to

spread my legs-



a million reasons for the

birds to sing-



in which I cannot see

but it churns the tides anyway,



learning to love the

right way, after

being fostered by drunk brutals

or father’s in their own right-



I’ve left that decade

in a grave of lines,



lines I’ve scribed

and lines left unearthed.

here's this
sudden rush
But you've got your elbows tucked in
Your legs are being lifted, drifting like a wave
Its the motion of the bodies around,  
They slip and glide,
your shoes,
from the perspiration of the brutals, the freed beverages upon the floor
pinned together
you force energy to propel them away, for that split second you ****** you hand and face in the air
and
breath
the almighty
rock on.

© 2015 Kate Volk