Thursday, September 10, 2009

Clearance, for a fortune
And I stand here crooked.
Strangled by my earphone’s chords.
With the air of a psychedelic gnome
Burdened with my gaudy backpack
Full of memories of boredom.

Clearance for a fortune.
And restless colours on me.
Hitchhikers’ shoes on my feet
I walk the streets of this city.

Clearance for a fortune.
I make room for intoxications.
I join the crowd to celebrate
My power of buying distractions.

Clearance for a fortune.
Once I fought to stand straight.
I stretched my arms, loosened my tie
And nearly broke my neck.

1 comment:

  1. I really like this one, more than the previous poem. And I can identify with the last image of trying to soar and ah, well.