The Day’s Thin Swim Suit
by Darryl Price
The day's thin swim suit
has once more been casually tossed aside like
a cartoon encrusted food wrapper on a worn
out irrelevant street somewhere in the soulful
west of a dream. It represents the well ordered
world as we want to see it, with erasable,
laughable teeth. And friendly as a ghost our seabird
goes through the pockets hole by hole looking for
the meaning of its own ancient hunger. No one
tries to stop them from coming as one turns easily
into a half dozen. I've been standing here
before I guess. This empty feeling is an unfortunate
home I ran away from a long time
ago still out looking for your foot prints. Why pretend
leaving everything to chance wasn't all about
believing in nothing? We only had a
moment alone to live in like any new song.
I'm pretty sure I've memorized the whole thing weird
bit by weird bit by now, but I don't sing it all
the time to myself like I used to I admit. Oh
let them walk away from the story's sad chapters.
It's what they do best. They've never cared for anyone
not in their shoes. Yeah the little poetry
leak is happening this time in the early morning
hours. Some part of you just becomes wide awake and
nothing ever seems to happen the same way again.
But it happens to everyone if they're somewhat
lucky in life. The problem of course is that
no one welcomes you back from Paradise. They can
see you've been severely beaten about the head
and heart. You could use a touch of the good stuff. You
think maybe you shouldn't laugh at them as they pull
their sails closer to the shore as fast as they can.
Darryl Price was born in Kentucky and educated at Thomas More College. A founding member of L. Jack Roth's Yellow Pages Poets, he has published dozens of chapbooks, and his poems have appeared in many journals.