Fire – Luke Otley (My Troubled Mind)

I heave up another lungful
of gulped down stars
and margarita moon

(behind: a guitar plinks and ripples and twangs,
a weighty glass knocks its contents over wood)

and I blow hard
again, into the heart
of the fire sending ash
eddying nightward
like gravity gone
Times Square snow

it lands on my arms, hands, fingers, my face – it’s as cool
as my mother’s knuckles circa ‘96
against my sickly fired forehead, and what a joy
it was to feel
the school day slip away
without you; you content
under covers
sipping saintly soup
and listening
to the dirty drumming rain.

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Published by grumpygorman

I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...

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