Draped in the ominous blood-red moon bereft of thoughts and desiring a place to call my own I wander aimlessly through the broken down streets, seeing the photocopy faces of a society with nothing to lose As I pass by a grime-ridden visage bearing only two teeth, I am greeted by a woman who must have been thought up by an architect I raise my hand to say hello, only to notice that she is wearing a blue-tooth device She passes by me with a glare and continues talking to her electronic voice on the other end I shrug it off and continue to a bar with a seedy feel to it I walk inside and sit with my head in my hands The bartender asks if I want a drink and I reply, "No one is here"
The Day My Heart Skipped a Beat
Teetering on the precipice of hazy darkness that is memory
I sparsely remember the time we interlocked fingers on the bridge at Jefferson Park
For once, my heart was at ease and I didn't have these blood seeking impulses
It's not your fault that things faltered, I am just tainted beyond salvation
Go with the light and save me the darkness; It is where I belong.
Bio Adam Levon Brown is poet residing in Eugene, Oregon. He has been published in dozens of places including Yellow Chair Review, Burningword Literary Journal, and Peeking Cat Poetry Magazine. He offers free resources for poets on his website at www.AdamLevonBrown.org