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A poem about growing up, leaving home, and realizing that you are a stranger in the world. |
by Seth Pevey Upon My arrival at Tulane Rain. When enters a city and I Confused, mostly by my Self, but also at time's passing and hands flashing against the sky. And everything else; Streetcar drones worker bee's beats and stones and streets unfold- the way Souls, or Chinese treats might Say; (Sold to never knowing why doors are slamming shut, you’re ever showing what Freedom's may fly open.) Still, I; Try the root broke lanes eye my rising smoke and flames walk in the rain-fall city's sink, Sometime think; (never aloud) weather signs belie the sky of faces in the crowd, Goodness, Graces, to be Proud. And to be, and to sing free Love’s loud. But hey, maybe I'll "relax man"- quietly come down. Stop making Love wax above in some rain cloud Who, when what he cannot do But fill, the pointless rain will only spill- to wavering puddles on the ground. And even then man, all the people just step Around. Why be Hypnotized at his expense? when, even after roars and claps sound Rip open the sky, He Is Empty- Drip. |