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locoland — edge of night
Published: 2015-04-11 01:15:07 +0000 UTC; Views: 326; Favourites: 25; Downloads: 0
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Description
at the edgea smoky room at the edge, it's always
been a smoky room at the
edge.
the edge never goes away.
sometimes you understand it
better,
sometimes you even talk to it, you might
say, "hello, old friend,"
but it has no sense of humor, it slams you in the
gut, says,
"this is a serious business, I'm here to
kill you or drive you mad."
"all right," you reply, "I under-
stand."
tonight this room is smoky
and I am alone
listening to the silence.
I am tired of waiting on life,
it was so slow to arrive and so quick to
leave.
the streets and the cities are
empty,
love is on the damned cross
and death laughs in the back
room.
at the edge, the edge, the edge.
it's so sad: the flowers are still trying
to please me,
the sun shouts my name,
but my courage fails
as the animals look on with large eyes.
this smoky room. a stained rug.
a few books. a painting or two.
a broken chair. an empty pair of shoes.
a tired old man.
subordinated soul.
-Bukowski
