quarta-feira, 3 de julho de 2013

Blue Being - James Franco

There is a surface

That we all make together

And the wild man

Seems to pop through

Like a line dancer out of step

And others start complaining

That he doesn’t know the moves

And he’s stepping on everyone’s toes.

There was a man named Mike

Who called my father five times a day.

You’d hear each burdened voice of the family

Shout across the house,

Daaad, it’s Mike.

At dinner my father often explained

That Mike saw demons.

They spoke to him,

He thought they were real.

I pictured a flaming blue being

Entering the dingy room,

And sitting by Mike

On the gray sheeted bed.

In Strongest of the Litter, Hollyridge Press, 2012.

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