Twenty: Red Light

Sometimes I stand on street corners,
whoring my thoughts out to any
john that takes my fancy: a pigeon,
the way city buildings curve into the sky,
a woman’s money and her
awful taste in shoes.

Now I’m staring at the little red man
of a traffic light, thinking,
He looks as angry as I am.
I want to reach out, take his hand.
There is roaring in a
world beyond my ears but
in here
there is silence. I think,
Silence would be endless,
if I could grab this man,
before he is nothing but green.

Advertisements

Published by

Alexia

I drink, I laugh, I smoke, I write.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s