Monday, January 20, 2014

poetry corner

Mother thought I'd be eaten alive by: Andrew Lawson copyright@2012


Mother thought I'd be eaten alive

in this concrete labyrinthe of mysterious lives

The night it is holy

beat music plays

weeps through my window

warms my cold veins

Sarcastic writers

smoke scented cloves

burned out Marxists

fan by the stove

My face it is hidden

by a mask of indifference

feel like an imposter sometimes

a lonely kid sister

Mother thought I'd be eaten alive

but my heart is still beating

My muse

is still breathing

The taxi cab will soon take me home

to a one room flat

that can get quite cold

I'll curl under the comforter

my Gran nana sewed

and watch the city twinkle

fold me in it's arms