~ from homeless fragments
© 2010 Peter Manda
i heard him vomit
as i was applying pressure to the last memories
of the night before against the plasticine edges of this, the precipice,
against the sacrificing ponds
Wretch! – don’t you remind me of myself
in late night train stations, clinging to the rim;
clinging to the memories of what I had wished the.
evening be! Hopes for love, happiness, carrying, singing, the mother’s .
Wretch! – i see you sleeping every night around the corner
under the 1970s teller window of the abandoned drive through drive by bank
under the blue glazed airport tower shaped glass reflecting my light to me
gathered in blankets accumulated from contributions taken.
Wretch! – your dependence on this edge, this pressure compelled moment
defies the silence I wish and the acrid smell of vegetable soup reprocessed
consumes me in memories of bathing
the day after in my fingers, glutinated between streaking hair across the concrete floor.
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