Thursday, May 30, 2013

Poem: The Five Bells

The Five Bells by Larry D. Sweazy

A red neon cappuccino sign buzzes
Immediate passion,
The cathedral chimes a braying
Tone wishing blue sky Sundays

Angled goatees, tight shorts on whirling
Silver spokes turn by
My bleeding ears,
The uniform of masculine passage, ripe,
Bright and collectable like
Stain-glassed Tiffany lamps
All muddle in the soul
of a blonde siren.

The atlas bounces, burns,
Shatters in the scream of a stallion's
Broken leg,
And at last when the sun shadows over it,
Green pond-scummed water comes and drowns
my Lancelot sore with five o'clock bells
As evening lays its dark hand
To the silent road.

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