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POEM: rue du musée

May 25, 2011

red brick sticks hard

in this place

where we used to hang out

what’s left: jagged glass, blacked bricks

and branches growing where curtains used to be


shadows move in on burnt down

colours, knuckled under tree


cars parked beside a graveyard

without notice, my sore eye rests

on board-up windows




arrested and locked on the ugly side of the block

ash lingers

at sunrise, no parking signs clock out visitors

from shadowing the lot


dead grass, scabbing walls

basement window fogs


and layers of broken wooden bones

rest on beam rods


back-spray from graffiti

curves a circle in light

and inside i see a ladder from the fire


brick flips loose

heavy drop.

4 Comments leave one →
  1. May 25, 2011 3:22 am

    Nice read…Interesting style.

  2. May 25, 2011 3:54 am

    Excellent post thanks for sharing. I enjoy reading and also writing poetry myself. Feel free to check it out. You have a great layout here!

    • June 3, 2011 3:22 pm

      Thanks for noticing the layout, work in progress actually. I’ll be sure to swing by your side of the blog-o-sphere soon. Cheers

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