Thursday, May 7, 2015

Dan A. Cardoza- A Poem

                       You Waited
you wait
near a hissing     neon sign
colors melt    cold and numb
over your shoulders
down your     white blouse
you look
vampire chic
with your     dark mascara
from your eyes
your hustle at a dead end
In the charcoal corridors or 2:00 AM
the only men that look your way
are potential serial killers
and the guys with ugly shoes
who want to     bargain with you
you don't even know your mother
died     two years ago
you recount your latest nightmare
in a vacant doorway shadow
as the wet neon fills your shoes
you contemplate a tall
summer bridge
in Seattle
you walked across
as a child
in early morning sunshine
barefoot     aureolined haired
the bridge with all that
yummy clear water below
reflecting an unleashed blue sky     above
orphaned of horizon
your own horizons endless with promise
and now your only thought
is if you jump from that
would you drown     break your neck
a faded dark     blue
Chevy Impala pulls up
you slowly walk toward it
with all the strut
and stuff     you can bring 
 he slowly rolls the down the window
asks you if you need a ride
 ...of course you do

No comments:

Post a Comment