Friday, February 3, 2012

Iceberg Lipgloss

A floating iceberg you are tonight
In the backseat we were continents apart
Your straightened hair mocked the wind
We sat crumpled, un-ironed for months
Bruised souls and tattooed skin
Pierced nose, a bleeding heart
Angry words like poisoned darts.
Teasing, pleasing...Lip-gloss on collars
And our black and white nights
Shine in the forgotten albums of the city.
Operas run in empty theatres
The poet has too many visitors
Life is like Chaplin's movie tonight
Your eyes the log book
Of a storm driven cruise liner.
Iceberg heart light me up tonight
Make the Backseat inches shorter,
And your bus stop a million miles away.