Dante’s Bronx

30 May

———-

Dante’s Bronx

 

I woke up and found myself on Mott Ave.

slightly dynamogenic

pulsing along the tremolos of night

external past the glass

chronometric in its ravaging

there was a homeless smile across from me

and the lights of bodegas outside

a wind that whistled of poverty and suspicion

a smell that tasted of ocean and aleatory choicelessness

this must be the place

where I write the next one

in this temporary cessation

with empty fast food bags left underneath the seats

promising a broken meter of easy time

and this entire path

back and forth like chained rhythm

promising aibohphobia

I woke up here

so it must be here

alone and palely loitering

that I’ll grasp the pen like a blade

while the train pushes off and begins in the opposite direction

off to the broken boogie

maybe somewhere that I finally want to go

———–

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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings


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