"sideroad" poems
I measured the steps
From the back screen door,
Past the rock water well
And the garden plot,
Down the gravel drive.
The crush of stones beneath
Were the sounds of anticipation.
At the end,
The road stretched and ribboned,
Grey, beneath the harvest sun.
I numbered the fence posts
Up to the tree with embedded wire,
Demarcating the next acre.
The telephone poles like guards
With cats-of-nine tails,
Red-winged blackbirds and wrens
Hanging on trapezes, upsidedown,
With rigamortis clutches.
The few cattle stood cooling in the pond,
The chickens pecked the farmyard dung.
Each day my steps imperceptibly decreased,
Speeding up the monotony of my walk.
I missed the sheep shaped clouds,
But saw them move
Across verdant dales,
Following the stream,
Like lambs.
Today, I look out my kitchen window
To see where my son,
My disheartened, lonely boy,
Counts the steps to Brigden Sideroad,
Feeling the gravel
Hard beneath his feet.
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 12:34 PM UTC
hey, sideroad girls...
why do you do it?
do you get pleasure
out of that?
or it's the money -
after that?
is there pleasure in it?
or is there money in it?
what are your friends like?
have you got any?
who are you saving?
who are you craving?
where is that father
of that child of yours?
hey, sideroad girls...
think your choice over?
follow your heart:
don't let the word ****
cross your life - over...
(c)kRu, 01.11.-15.12.2010
Feb 4, 2012
Feb 4, 2012 at 9:31 AM UTC