Will Dockery
2015-05-21 10:30:50 UTC
Tuesday with Little Spain / a poem by Will Dockery
Archived at:
http://comments.poetry.arts.alt.groups.com.ru/196352-Re_Tuesday_with_Little_Spain_by_Will_Dockery
From: Andrew Roller <***@earthlink.net>
Subject: Tuesday with Little Spain by Will Dockery
Date: 1998/06/21
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Tuesday with Little Spain
by Will Dockery
And I am shoved back into this night life,
well she said, she said, she said it was impossible.
There is a place, it smoulders, it is the past, dreamtime,
wander these dark corridors of memory.
I sleep so deep, I don't like to sleep,
my dreams threaten to wash me away.
Floating in a sea of bad vibes, I do these things over and over,
repentatively, feel regret but keep doing it over and over.
Then the whole thing becomes a blur.
Grey and pasted, patched together with spackling
and sheet rock mud, a disgusted perversion of humanity.
During the decline and fall of poetry,
in the summer of sardonic excess,
I sat with Little Spain and felt her softness.
Still a sky poet, though tattered and glowing,
brought down from Blue Territory,
no longer in Blue Territory.
I wandered by a cold river
in the flaming copper land of summer.
This complete process of remaking we had,
your mix of pales & shades,
your, distinctive, mythic self, one distinct sing of your eyes...
I must bitterly understand our fate,
we were never meant to be,
like lost in the mirror'd rooms of a crazy house.
Crimson on the napkins,
pink fuzz on the clover.
Maneuver to the left, and forward,
into a mud soaked future.
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Tuesday with Little Spain is copyright 1998 by Will Dockery
Archived at:
http://comments.poetry.arts.alt.groups.com.ru/196352-Re_Tuesday_with_Little_Spain_by_Will_Dockery
From: Andrew Roller <***@earthlink.net>
Subject: Tuesday with Little Spain by Will Dockery
Date: 1998/06/21
Message-ID: <***@earthlink.net>#1/1
X-Deja-AN: 364670631
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
Mime-Version: 1.0
Reply-To: ***@earthlink.net
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1
Organization: Roller Publications
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
---------------------------------------------------------------
PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Tuesday with Little Spain
by Will Dockery
And I am shoved back into this night life,
well she said, she said, she said it was impossible.
There is a place, it smoulders, it is the past, dreamtime,
wander these dark corridors of memory.
I sleep so deep, I don't like to sleep,
my dreams threaten to wash me away.
Floating in a sea of bad vibes, I do these things over and over,
repentatively, feel regret but keep doing it over and over.
Then the whole thing becomes a blur.
Grey and pasted, patched together with spackling
and sheet rock mud, a disgusted perversion of humanity.
During the decline and fall of poetry,
in the summer of sardonic excess,
I sat with Little Spain and felt her softness.
Still a sky poet, though tattered and glowing,
brought down from Blue Territory,
no longer in Blue Territory.
I wandered by a cold river
in the flaming copper land of summer.
This complete process of remaking we had,
your mix of pales & shades,
your, distinctive, mythic self, one distinct sing of your eyes...
I must bitterly understand our fate,
we were never meant to be,
like lost in the mirror'd rooms of a crazy house.
Crimson on the napkins,
pink fuzz on the clover.
Maneuver to the left, and forward,
into a mud soaked future.
---------------------------------------------------------------
-For more poems, type
http://www.dejanews.com/
into your browser's "Location" window. Press your "return" key.
Click on "Power Search" in the middle of the screen. Next,
Type in: ***@earthlink.net in the box that appears.
Click on "find" (the button to the right of the box).
-Or search using: ***@idt.net
Tuesday with Little Spain is copyright 1998 by Will Dockery